Delayed Telecast

Those in Italics were written when I was sitting in the last hotel hotel where we enquired on the availability of rooms... Sense the frustration!

I ended up in KL checking into Traders' and spending a fortune away. Even when I'm home now, I'm still thinking of my Marc Jacobs. I simply miss Ritz in KL and their plush beds.

It cannot be anymore impromptu. Upon my last meeting, I hit right home to grab Kokoro and we were on the road for the next 3 hours or so. To be able to reach KL in 2.5 hours was a feat considering the fact that there was a stretch of road when it rained cats and dogs, I had to really slow down and squint my eyes for the last bit of visibility. Travelling on the North South Highway was all too familiar. The heavy lids after a long working day wasn’t. And hell wasn’t I vaguely prepared for what was awaiting.

The drive from the base of Genting all the way up to the chilly top, I displayed the infamous trait of the “B Road Sleeper” as affectionately given to me by Saints. With the face turning green and coupled with my head continuing to spin from the lack of sleep, I ended up with the worst nauseating feeling ever. My body felt like it was falling apart and meaningless tearing went on overdrive. I needed a place to sleep.

When I got to the hotel, I thought, finally! I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’m sitting in the lobby of the 4^th hotel I went to, only to get the unapologetic, “sorry, full house”.  And I’m contemplating to drive downhill to try out Awana and worst still, to go down to KL instead. It was meant to be an unwinding trip and I ended up worst off than just staying at home, sleeping the next 24 hours away. All I need now is a steaming hot shower and a clean comfy bed. I would pay a fortune for it. I swear I would. Trust me! I asked for the best suite in town and I still got the “full house” answer. How is that possible?

I’m freeeaaaaking blogging from my Microsoft Word because I haven’t got internet access. If I had, I’d spend the entire night meddling away with Facebook. I’m feeling like an idiot. A miserable one. Right now, I’d rather be back in the office, slogging away. I am absolutely serious. And I’m absolutely miserable. Yes I’m whining. I need my beauty sleep.

*chug

Just out of curiosity - Are Italics called Italics because some Italian came up with it or that the Italians are not so straight up (relative to the Germans)? Tough joke to laugh at. I know!