I am famished, no exaggeration.
During a morning meeting in Persiaran Bukit Kiara today, the attendees were served Nasi Lemak wrapped in daun pisang. Accompanying it was soy bean milk. The aroma of the rice and its condiments, enhanced by the fragrance of the wrap, managed to convince assigned officers to shorten their respective reports, which I was grateful for because I was the third presenter and I could only eat after my presentation. Just because I refused to be caught off guard by an unexpected short report by the second presenter, forcing a mouthful of Nasi Lemak, Sambal Tumis, Ikan Bilis Garing, and Telur
Rebus down my esophagus as the chairperson announced my turn to present.
So, I demurely waited for my turn while silently cursing the two presenters before me for their unexpected lengthy reports. I noticed there were flattened wraps on their plates. Genius them, they must have digested their breakfast while waiting for the chairperson's introduction. Me, I know my limitation of being a slow eater.
After the hearty breakfast, I made my way back to Putrajaya. By public transportations. No thanks, I never preferred to fight the morning traffic to Kuala Lumpur and the vicinities. When it involves a meeting scheduled at 9:00 a.m. in the Klang Valley, I would either go by the ministry official vehicle or have Kamal drives me on his way to work. The official vehicle fully booked for today, I opted for alternative two, which also meant I would need to find my own way back to the office.
Now, during the journey back to Putrajaya, I sensed an intense headache slowly creeping through my system while slouching in a taxi to Kuala Lumpur Sentral. Once there, I scoured for a packed lunch. Strange how a bland fried vermicelli at 7-Eleven won over the more fancy selections at other F&B joints.
Meanwhile, the headache would not retreat even after a nap in the train. Instead, it worsened with a tinge of nausea teasing its way from the stomach. In the taxi back to the office, I popped one after another orange flavoured mint. To think that the familiar nice smell in the office would soothe the madness was mindless. In such confusion, I finished the bland fried vermicelli. I now conclude that I love my food bland nowadays, really.
Still, the headache worsened to a worse than worst state. The nausea teased mercilessly. The code spelled ceramic throne. I dashed to the ladies', was thankful that a booth was vacant, and the rest was history. I think women who endured endless vomitting were heroes because the act itself is not only painful, but also extremely tiring. I am not a hero. I reeled on and on about the lost: aromatic Nasi Lemak wrapped in daun pisang and bland fried vermicelli. Indeed, I have just realised that I ranted about the whole ordeal in a blog, where Kamal, my loyal reader, might find a need to vomit after consuming this lot.
Now, I am famished. All I have in the office is a bottle of mineral water, which was previously filled with apple juice that I hungrily gulped after vomitting. There are two mandarin oranges, too, courtesy of my Chinese colleagues. There were six actually, but I had four while waiting for my 8:00 p.m. ride back home yesterday.
The pantry cabinet is out of biscuits and Milo. It is my fault. I loathe entering Carrefour after office hour because of the crowd. My Shoppe near my place somehow echoed of emptiness the last time I stepped into the place. Those excuses aside, I believe in buying something that I feel like eating there and then. Nowadays, my appetite only thinks in the span of the moment. Not even ten minutes after, let alone an hour after.
All these made me forget my witch's nose.