For someone who loves everything spontaneous, I find it strange that I love order. Well, these two don't really contradict each other actually. I don't like to plan how my day is going to be like (strange, considering I am an event manager). Some people plan days ahead just to catch a movie. Not for me. I'd just show up at the cinema, see what movie's worth the watch, get the ticket and enjoy the show. Then there are those I like to call 'The Secretary'. They're the ones that go,"At 2pm, I'll be meeting XYZ at OneU for about 15 minutes. Then I have to go across town to meet ABC at 3pm. Journey to ABC will take about 20 minutes. So that leaves me about 20 minutes to meet you. But I must leave OneU by 2.35 the least." This amazes me some times. Why can't they just say,"I can only see you after 2.20pm for about 20 minutes. What say you?" Just give me the point. We're all busy people afterall. Can you imagine if I would do the same? "At 2pm, I'm gonna be in the toilet. Give me about a minute to pee. Then about 5 minutes to clean up and make sure my hair looks fine. Then it'll take about 10 minutes for me to walk to our meeting place and another..."

But there are things that must be done in an orderly way. For instance when I do the dishes. First of all, I would put all the dirty dishes into the sink (no need to explain the logic in that one). Then I would put all the dry dishes from the rack into the cabinet. After that I would rinse all the dirty dishes and put them on the counter. Then I would prepare the dish wash into the dish wash bowl, and dilute it with water. After that I'd soap each dish and put them into the sink. Then I rinse them and put them on the rack. Finally I would wipe the sink and kitchen counter. I repeat these steps every time I do the dishes, regardless of how many dishes I need to wash.

But lately my orderly ways are changing. Or either that, I'm just getting more forgetful these days. For instance like today. I almost got a heart attack when I realize that I didn't do what I normally do. I went to park the car and as I entered the parking lot, I took the parking ticket. I then placed the ticket in the compartment near the handbreak. Everything is normal there. Parked the car. Then I put the steering lock on, switched the air-cond off and switched the engine off. Got out and locked the car. All looks normal right? WRONG!

You see, I parked my car in basement 3. I had to climb 3 flights of stairs to go to my intended destination. Tired and panting from my 'work-out', I suddenly realized something terribly wrong. Panic rushed in just like how the tsunami came to destroy the beaches. "Where's my parking ticket?!" Oh no. Please let it be in my bag. Wallet, handphone, comb, sweets... no parking ticket? Great. It's in the car. It must be. Or is it? Did I drop it somewhere? Don't you just hate it when Doubt fucks with your mind?

Nah. I'm sure the ticket's in the car. Just do your stuff first and worry about the ticket later. Ok, this is easy. Right leg, take a step forward. Good. Now left leg move forward. Great. You're doing just fine. Just keep walking. I was about halfway to my destination when panic really had its grip on my heart and mind. I realize that til I have that ticket with me, I will never be able to think (read: operate) properly. So I coolly traced back my steps to my car. Yeap, down those 3 flights of stairs and into that creepy basement. As I was reaching my car, my tiny feet started to pick up pace. Great. Now you wanna run. Stop running! I'm the one who's gonna get tired, not you!".

I took my keys and pressed the button to unlock my car in a swift motion just like how Clark Kent quickly changes costume into Superman. As I was standing at the driver's door, I could see a white piece of paper in the compartment near the handbreak. A smile formed on my face and I could feel panic loosening its grip on me. I was happy but pissed at the same time. I jerked the door open and grabbed the ticket, just like how a mother would embrace her lost wandering child. A mother would go,"Where have you been, child?! I've been looking for you everywhere. Don't you ever do that again." And she would smother her child with hugs and kisses. Well, I didn't give the ticket any hugs or kisses. As I picked the ticket with my fingers, I gave it a good scolding. "Damn you ticket. Look what you made me do."

Then I put it in my pocket and happily went to do my chores. So what if I had to climb the 3 flights of stairs again? I have my parking ticket with me and that's all that matters. As I walked away from my car, I double-checked everything in my head: Parking ticket, check. Steering lock on, check. Door lock, check. Keys in bag, check. Parking ticket, check.

This is just a simple case of being forgetful. Or is it?

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