White collar lab rats
White fur, red eyes and fragile limbs – lab rats race through a maze to get the “cheese”.
“It feels like a rat race at the office these days,” I texted a good friend despite knowing not everyone will have the same perspective. I used to be insecure about having this feeling, afraid that I seem not fit in my working environment. Although however, it’s not necessarily ‘work’ that falls under this category. To some people, it’s perhaps relationship or commitment.
“What’s a rat race, babe?” My friend asked.
Some days are not straight forward
I wasn’t sure if yesterday was a good day, or was it a bad one. Now that I’ve woken up the next day and feel better, I guess let me remember it as just.. fine. It was great, actually. But I wasn’t feeling well. (I still am, and on my medical leave while writing this) My colleague, Sarah gave me paracetamol tablets in the afternoon after she verified my skin was warmer.
I first played this game at Bill Moran‘s poetry workshop, it was for the ice breaking activity (I didn’t break any ice though). I sat and hide my face silently, I probably came with way too personal things to start with, my feet got cold.
We were required to list down three facts about ourselves and one among those, is not true, almost right or the thing we wish to happen but didn’t or haven’t, and the audience will guess which one is that thing. The Lie.