Taxi driver

I had a glimpse into the life of a taxi driver today. And it's no easy job. With Winston, the resident Health and Fitness Club driver (and occassionally, my chauffeur) off to Sweden, the job is exclusively mine and my mum's van. So today I drove:

NUS => Kranji=>NUS=>Stevens Road=>NUS=>Clementi Clubfit Gym=>Jurong West Clubfit Gym=>Jurong Easy Clubfit Gym=>Choa Chu Kang Clubfit Gym=>Bukit Gombak Clubfit Gym=>Lost on SLE=>Ang Mo Kio=>Pongol=>Lost in Seng Kang=>Lost in Hougang=>Lost in baungkok=>Lost in Sengkang=>TPE=>HOME!!!!

It certainly isn't any easier to be sitting down in a box filled with carbon monoxide, and exercising your limbs with the brake, clutch, accelerator, gear, sterling wheel, handbrake... as well as your neck and abs whenever jerk right up when you realize you're about to miss a turn, than running 10km. Full gym workout around the most ulu roads of Singapore (erm, any where on the MRT green line is considered ulu, and anywhere on the NEL is considered completely unheard off and ulu-fyingly ulu.) Health and Fitness indeed. And I've driven on so many roads I've never seen before.

... ... ...

When you've gone off track for so long, you no longer know what's normal. Things so natural, so basic that no one really gives a thought to them... suddenly come with so much thought, effort, emotions... and guilt.