Inspire me.

Inspire me.
feeling: wasted.
spinning: bic runga and dan wilson - good morning baby

I am never very fond of going to the central business district, or being around office crowds for that matter. Something about being amongst the eclectic mix of well-suited Caucasians, well-dressed locals who exude success and the in-betweens (includes the badly-dressed PA looking types) makes me feel mighty uncomfortable. I'm no longer kid enough to ogle and aspire to be like the woman clad in Prada barking orders down her cellphone, yet I'm not yet adult enough to join these office ranks.

While jostling my way through the lunch-time crowd, a lady at one of the chic cafes caught my eye. Dressed simply in a timeless black shift dress, she looked to be in her late thirties and was lunching with a group of three other women. While I only stole a glance (come on, you don't expect me to stop and stare at her like some psycho on the sidewalk), for that moment she was the role model to the little girl inside me. I don't know what it is exactly that she's working as (managerial type I'm guessing) but she looked polished and smart enough to hold her place in that office chaos. And that was enough to have Shenton Way-fearing-me awed.

After a whole five months of doing almost nothing (excluding my editorial internship) and feeling all lost and crappy; yesterday, I finally grasped a little of where I want my life to head.

This post probably might not make any sense at all to most, but I'm hoping that there'll be someone out there who'll understand what it is I am trying to say.