This And A Cemetery

I seem to do things better when I don't care what happens in the end. It's inexplicable, because logic dictates that if one cares about a task then one would be more thorough thus ensuring a good result. As for me, I do my best work when I just wing it. Whatever it is, whether work or interactions with people or whatever. The only reason that makes any sense is that in my case, if I care too much I get nervous. If I'm nervous I screw up. Now, what I want to figure out is how to be concerned about an outcome and not be nervous. I'm too complex for my own good. Also, I think too much.

Doesn't it just crack you up that people can't/don't/won't read signs. This is also inexplicable. How many times have you seen this? An otherwise sensible, intelligent person would walk up to a door and tug and pull and struggle, all the while failing to notice the loud sign that says "Closed". I saw this happen a lot of times at the two bank downstairs. One time the staff were cleaning up the place during lunch, locked the front door and put up our sizable "Closed" sign with a notice in English, Malay and Chinese informing their customers that they were cleaning up and would be opened as usual in an hour. I counted 2 dozen people tugging at the door in the next 30 minutes. Some even stood there for minutes, scratching their heads seemingly unable to comprehend that the "Closed" sign may be related to the fact that the door wouldn't open. This morning at 8:45am, a nice old lady did the same and I told her that the bank opens at 9:00am. Are these people deficient? If they are then I am too. I too am guilty of trying to push a door open while the sign on the handle says PULL. It's inexplicable.

I'm going to go to the cemetery this evening. This month marks an anniversary of death of someone I knew. Cemeteries don't freak me out. There's something morbidly fascinating about cemeteries. Especially those ancient ones with graves from the late 19th Century. Like the one near the House of Epiphany behind St. Thomas's Cathedral. I used to go there a lot while I was still in school, for no other reason other than to read the names and the epitaphs. I find cemeteries to be oddly peaceful. Try it. Go there an hour before sundown. I wonder if this graveyard fascination's got something to do with me being prone to melancholy.

There are other more important things happening around me, obviously, and they're all good things, but I'd rather not write about them until they're cut and dried and rolled up to be smoked in a celebratory manner.

Hmmm...cutting, drying, rolling and smoking...sounds very good now.