Today, I love you

When I ran about three hours earlier, the streets were clear of MPVs pouring school children onto the kerb. People have decided to stay in, out of respect because clearly, this day belongs to me.

Just 20 minutes ago, the view through my windshield showed the sky, painted the kind of perfectly colour-calibrated blue I’ve only seen in travel magazines. I see an airplane leaving contrail, a sharp line waiting for God’s signature. The sun, surprised to see me on the road so early this morning sends me a wink, achieved by bouncing a ray off the plane’s wing. A solar powered Elvis sparkle smile.

I shouldn’t be looking up, especially not while going at 90km/h. But there are about six cars on the road, all a respectful distance away. My Smart Tag beeps and the automatic arm of the toll booth raises, saluting. G’morning sir.

Five minutes ago, I walk into the office. I’m the only one here. The department is dark. I don’t miss a single one of them. I’m hungry now, and I walk over to my colleague’s cubicle. He seems to have appeared at my whim, almost as if his sole purpose was to offer me company at breakfast.

I’m posting this now, before the mood decays. Next week, the madness returns along with colleagues coming off their Chinese New Year break. They’ll bring with them their resentment and foul mood from having to end the always-too-short vacation. This brief lucid bubble of time punctured rudely by the office’s dominant, manic-depressive self.

But today, job, office, life, I love you.