Some mornings, you just wake up, dress up and show up. No, you have no appointments; there are no more responsibilities post sending kids off to school and absolutely nothing to look forward to. So you occupy the side seat of the four-wheeler and hijack the better half off his peaceful drive to work. Next, you clutter his already tormented soul with paragraphs that fill the fresh morning air (aircon) within the car. You so wish to be a part of his trip, witnessing the same sights he sees on his way to work daily; well almost. I am sure he is overwhelmed by traffic every day but gets to glance around the perfectly manicured Singapore greenery today simply because years ago he said, “I do”.

Congratulations! You succeeded in getting him all late. At the back of his mind, he is working out ‘Time needed to scrape into my seat before grace period dies down’ = Distance/Speed(includes zipping past escalators, making a high jump right before security, scanning ID at the same time, scurrying between cubicles avoiding any coffee spills like he is centre-forward of the Argentinian team and finally jumping at his seat like he saved a boundary for Mumbai Indians). His RAM usage is increasing at dangerous proportions and currently sounding red alert over that much dreaded phone call from the manager as a dose of love for deciding in favour of giving the wife some company rather than seeing her first thing that morning.

A good ten minutes later, the kind-hearted soul begins one of his intellectual conversations hoping for reciprocation. That’s when you put him under a bus with your ‘I know it all’ or ‘I am already there dude’ attitude and continue with your animated thoughts and actions silencing the poor guy completely. As some solace, the journey ends in exactly 25 minutes. That’s when he tries his best to hide his happiness and does his Freedom March to disappear instantly in the maddening morning crowd.

You, on the other hand, are ready to flutter away. But hey, wait a minute! Is it so wrong to expect that filmy kiss followed by, ‘Love you and can’t wait to see you again?’ In your dreams, girl. The guy has no time to turn around DDLJ style(palat, palat) and reaffirm any love for you or any other woman. There are meetings lined up and a bloodbath waiting at the quarter ending war coming up in an hour.

Okay, so you empathise with the guy for exactly two seconds and move on. And that’s when all the magic begins. You don’t know where you are heading. Your feet carry you onto a train that stops right outside the mall with your favourite place – #The Food Barn. Almost like being on autopilot, you step inside, place your favourite order and grab the nicest seat – apparently, everybody else is part of the rat race, slogging it out to make ends meet or pay the bills for some loved one like yours truly. And before you know, every single bite of the TFB Classic Vegan(now changed to Veggie Sandwich) tastes orgasmic. It’s one of those things you fall for all over again, exactly like you did fifteen years ago. Well, that year seemed to be Cupid struck. That’s also when I met you know who. And the rest is history. I have officially been misusing all my rights over he who dared to say, “I do”, since.

P.S. I got hooked on to a book strongly recommend by the man in my life. And I guess I did what we girls do. I picked the phone and called to tell him XXX.