Black Monday

“Seacrest. Out” I said while leaving my office one mid afternoon. “But you are NOT presenting Cimahi Idol!” yelled one of my Sundanese colleagues. “Dun care darl! I am just fed up with everything today, I need my personal moment”. “So where are you going?” she asked. “Personal moments became that way because they are personal thus none of your business” I snapped. The air was thick, choking, annoying, and not enjoyable at most. I called that specific day my Black Monday.

Maybe it was PMS, maybe then it was the overextended gout attack, but for sure nothing would satisfy me that day. Everything just seemed to be wrong. From the banks’ long queuing lines, the traffic jam, the stupid questions people called me to answer. It was just a totally wrong day.

I didn’t remember how many people had I snapped at that day. It was just simply no more Mr. Nice Guy from this side of the globe. I felt like the sweet and polite guy I was known as, had left the building along with Elvis. If someone would start a bad mouthing, I would retort in an equally bad and long angry monolog. In short: Don’t even light any match, because the fuse were drenched in gasoline already.

Short Note: And the funny thing was, I just realized that when I was really really angry, I specifically only burst-out in English, forgetting any other common tongues. Maybe I watched too much bitching in Melrose Place and General Hospital in my youth.

Some of my victims were over pushing telemarketers, my merchant relations officer, and a few friends who seemingly displayed an open fire strategy as their greeting method of the day.

During the previous weekend, all I needed to calm my soul was a heartfelt karaoke session with my friends. Some of them did come to an undisclosed Satay meeting place. But none of them wanted to have a karaoke nite. I started to get mad that weekend. Damn, why is it so hard to understand that when a girl needs to sing, she NEEDS to SING.

Grumpy old bastard then I became through Sunday and explosive Mama I then was by Monday.

Monday night I came home totally exhausted for feeling mad for no apparent reason. The only consolation was the chuckling I had when Mr. Boyfriend called in. He told me to be patient, to meditate and to pray at the end of that ugly Monday.

I did.

Tuesday didn’t seem to be any different.

I was still busy snapping at people who’d done some wrong timing with me. Then it came to me that I needed my personal moment. I needed to go somewhere secluded, tranquil with a pint of meditative quality.

So then I went to Pacific Place in the middle of the CBD. Not exactly meditative. But it was close by. It was empty. It was enough to sooth my burning mind. Then yet again, I was about to get mad again when I realized that I didn’t even bring my notebook from the office. What if in case I would need to perform some karmic surfing on the net?

Then I pulled out my little phone. Turned on the bandwidth, ordered some heavenly chocolate cake at Segafredo and just stared on the screen of my phone. Sipping through my second glass of iced macha, I was already smiling, laughing, and even kicking my feet, as I laughed so hard, my stomach would hurt.

So what was my savior of the day?

It was Jon’s blog. I am sure you’ve read his writings as he was featured in Fridae a while back. God, let me thank you for creating Jon. He really saved the day. I am really thankful that he still writes in his own funny way. It was sincere yet it was too honest at times.

Who needed to know how a Thai elephant would blast a heavy load of shit during a very hot and humid day trip? Who needed to know why his mother was afraid that he would get kidnapped by the insurgence at the southern border? Who needed to know why his father would seem so kind and yet thrifty at the same time? Who needed to know how a patient’s vomit would have a certain texture and fragrance that one specific male nurse would be able to distinguish?

I did.

And I laughed. And I laughed.

By 6 pm that evening, I was back in my old shoes. The sweet nature and caring guy who rarely gets angry and who has an abundance of patience (well at least I may act like I have one) in dealing with problems.

It was almost two weeks ago.
And I am still in a jolly good mood.

Thank you Jon for saving my week.


Forever indebted,






Prof. Utonium

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