Saturday

I've spent most Saturdays for the past four years with the boyfriend and it felt strangely odd that I would find myself alone on a Saturday. I woke up early to get some work done and went about methodically trying to sort out the pile of unopened letters on my desk. My parents were out, my brother was busy, so I threw some Japanese snacks into my mouth to satisfy the random hunger pangs. By early afternoon, I decided I needed to go out to run some errands so I got dressed in an old black tank top, orange shorts and a biege cardigan, slipped on my trusty pair of Havis, and headed out the door with my ear phones plugged firmly in my ears.

A sense of deju vu hit me while I boarded the bus. It felt like not too long ago when I was dressed in a similar casual attire, listening to crappy tunes on my Ipod, and taking bus 31 to Marine Parade. I still remember those moments, my head resting against the window of the bus, watching random people drift in and out of my sight, placing my Ipod on shuffle but always, always, forwarding to the tracks I prefer. 

I don't remember what my point was when I started this post and now I have no idea how to end it. Do we always start something with an end in mind or do we start something and see where life takes us?