As the longer hand of my Hilfiger watch finally reston the lower-half of its less endowed brother, the fervent crowd in Clarke Quay, like the year before and a year before that, or in fact every year, exploded out happy new year from the top of their blacken, tobacco-clogged lungs, rang in such sonorous clamor neither the roosters nor my Pokemon alarm clock could ever compete in shaking me out from stupor.
And I did woke up.
2012 is the year I put my first step towards working adult life, I intended it to be The year that I will not repeat the same mistake again.
Instead of scribbling down lists of unattainable desires (ie. Get a new face) on a piece of unwanted paper hoping for some rich dad to rummage my rubbish bin for the tawny paper few months later and hand the presents to me, I would demand for it by posting it on my blog, with dates to determine whether I received it or not.
Not to be idealistic and optimistic any longer, the stuff I now wanted are attainable, provided that I get a decent paying not too tiresome job to fund and support it.
Things I wanted for 2012
March - Able to communicate at least elementary French/ Buy new sets of underwear n socks
June - Gain concrete knowledge on marketing n branding/ Get California Fitness membership
September - A trip to Bangkok/ Get hold of 100 new connections in my hp contact (ppl I like)
December - Get a new gaming desktop / Asking for a raise to perhaps 2.8-3k
