Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Last day of work; I’m quite sad really, because I’ll be leaving all the nice people I’ve met during the right days I’ve worked with John Little. However, I’ve got a job to complete: I need to finish stock-taking and packing all the stationery before noon, when the trucks will arrive to cart everything away.
Wendy has sent four boys to help me with the stocking and packing of stationery. They are unaccustomed to my slow and methodical style of working, and discourage me from taking anymore stationery out and lining them up (I still have a box of assorted stationery from the cash office which I forgot to open up yesterday). In fact I really have to thank them, or else I’d still be sitting on the floor stupidly counting goods up till two. They told me not to open the boxes that had not been touched, but merely relied on the quantity on the label stuck to the side of the box to determine how many items were inside. Perhaps it’s a chance to keep up with my mathematical thinking, as we calculated the total amount for the items rather than counting them physically. We manage to finish before lunch. After they go away I still at the out port table and write up the inventory of stationery nicely for Kalai. The temp staffers are leaving; Wendy has just called the perm staff for a briefing and very soon they’ll be gone too. I give thrust to my working speed.
Lawrence waits for me to finish, before we go and bid Kalai and Bryan and the rest farewell. We exchange telephone numbers. It’s sad to leave everyone after eight days of working and knowing so many people in such a short period of time. The experience of working with John Little will forever be etched into my mind. Most eminently it will definitely be the social contact during the course of employment.
We go to the café to clock out for the last time. Then we slip the punch card, badge and overtime form into the envelope given to us during orientation and return them to Wendy. Then we walk through the empty hallway slowly, savouring every bit of what was our workplace, and what used to be a sales floor, now strewn with rubbish and the odd items here and there. We spot a roll of string wrap on the floor; ever since the sales day I’ve been obsessed about retrieving all the wraps back to the out port. There’s a big lorry parked near the middle of the hall; earlier we’d seen it drive (at high speed, yes!) in and flatten a few items along the way.
Out of the hall and into the foyer, where we assembled for the first time without knowing one another. Then out of the building and down the sheltered walkway towards the bus stop. Lawrence lights a cigarette. The heat is tremendously strong that we have to squint. I comment about the weather, how it seemed to rain forever yesterday and now it is so bright… a little too bright.
We arrive at the bus stop. Lawrence tips the cigarette into the bin, pats me on the back and shakes my hand. Keep in contact, he says. Definitely, I reply. Let’s go down to HMV next week.
* * *
There’s about three hours to my meeting with Carol and Si Ying. I never expect I’d be released so early from work. Anyway, I don’t want to travel too far so I head for the Bedok Library to compose in solitude. At three I head for McDonald’s at the Bedok bus interchange to wait for them. I continue to compose there, while awaiting the two ladies – and awaiting the call from either Proko or Schubie about what are the songs I’m supposed to arrange for stage band. Within the three hours I manage to orchestrate the Entr’acte to Act 4 Scene 1. Sometimes I find that I orchestrate better on paper, as my thoughts are more logical. I’ve been using pen for my manuscripts, by the way, but it still looks as neat. The good thing about pen is that you only carry one piece of stationery around with you, and you train yourself to be careful (because I never carry correction fluid with me). As usual, I clutter the table at McDonald’s with large manuscript paper, my manuscript book and God knows what else.
Si Ying arrives approximately ten minutes to our meeting time. She’s changed quite a lot since I last saw her. Well it was ages really, considering it was during the A-Levels – two months back. She’s gotten contacts; she’s dyed her hair a little brown; and she’s into a relationship. How great the changes are. Me, I’m still the same, badly dishevelled and forever writing some God Knows What score. Probably the change I’ve undergone is the use of pen to compose now: I detest using the pencil now. Ink gives me greater strength and confidence.
Carol arrives rather late; it’s the fault of SBS Transit again. She shows us the folder containing information about United Artistes’ Network. Si Ying signs up. I’m not so sure, anyway I just sign up as I didn’t feel very good rejecting when my music partner has done so. I made plans to call a few days later to reject my application. Partly I don’t trust the company, as Wilfred discovered it to be a sham. Also I was not enthusiastic about paying money to go for grooming courses in return for artistic management. I would rather find and go for my own courses in music, be it composition, orchestration, conducting or performance.
* * *
After Carol leaves Si Ying and I decide to discuss the repertoire for our Mardi Gras performance. Mrs Yong had not provided the details; anyway we would scout around and suggest pieces to each other, until we got a confirmation and then we could settle the final programme. We threw in mostly songs from the cartoons, musicals and some pop stuff. I promised to send her my database of sheet music, while she would send me her list of songs that she could sing. Hopefully we would be able to choose songs that both of us were familiar with to lessen the need for much practice. We always have the habit of crashing out a rehearsal a few days or hours just before we’re about to showcase our stuff on stage. She knows my style; I know her's, so in the event something happens in the performance, we just keep going and listen out for each other. ¶ 1/20/2004 10:25:00 pm
Wendy has sent four boys to help me with the stocking and packing of stationery. They are unaccustomed to my slow and methodical style of working, and discourage me from taking anymore stationery out and lining them up (I still have a box of assorted stationery from the cash office which I forgot to open up yesterday). In fact I really have to thank them, or else I’d still be sitting on the floor stupidly counting goods up till two. They told me not to open the boxes that had not been touched, but merely relied on the quantity on the label stuck to the side of the box to determine how many items were inside. Perhaps it’s a chance to keep up with my mathematical thinking, as we calculated the total amount for the items rather than counting them physically. We manage to finish before lunch. After they go away I still at the out port table and write up the inventory of stationery nicely for Kalai. The temp staffers are leaving; Wendy has just called the perm staff for a briefing and very soon they’ll be gone too. I give thrust to my working speed.
Lawrence waits for me to finish, before we go and bid Kalai and Bryan and the rest farewell. We exchange telephone numbers. It’s sad to leave everyone after eight days of working and knowing so many people in such a short period of time. The experience of working with John Little will forever be etched into my mind. Most eminently it will definitely be the social contact during the course of employment.
We go to the café to clock out for the last time. Then we slip the punch card, badge and overtime form into the envelope given to us during orientation and return them to Wendy. Then we walk through the empty hallway slowly, savouring every bit of what was our workplace, and what used to be a sales floor, now strewn with rubbish and the odd items here and there. We spot a roll of string wrap on the floor; ever since the sales day I’ve been obsessed about retrieving all the wraps back to the out port. There’s a big lorry parked near the middle of the hall; earlier we’d seen it drive (at high speed, yes!) in and flatten a few items along the way.
Out of the hall and into the foyer, where we assembled for the first time without knowing one another. Then out of the building and down the sheltered walkway towards the bus stop. Lawrence lights a cigarette. The heat is tremendously strong that we have to squint. I comment about the weather, how it seemed to rain forever yesterday and now it is so bright… a little too bright.
We arrive at the bus stop. Lawrence tips the cigarette into the bin, pats me on the back and shakes my hand. Keep in contact, he says. Definitely, I reply. Let’s go down to HMV next week.
* * *
There’s about three hours to my meeting with Carol and Si Ying. I never expect I’d be released so early from work. Anyway, I don’t want to travel too far so I head for the Bedok Library to compose in solitude. At three I head for McDonald’s at the Bedok bus interchange to wait for them. I continue to compose there, while awaiting the two ladies – and awaiting the call from either Proko or Schubie about what are the songs I’m supposed to arrange for stage band. Within the three hours I manage to orchestrate the Entr’acte to Act 4 Scene 1. Sometimes I find that I orchestrate better on paper, as my thoughts are more logical. I’ve been using pen for my manuscripts, by the way, but it still looks as neat. The good thing about pen is that you only carry one piece of stationery around with you, and you train yourself to be careful (because I never carry correction fluid with me). As usual, I clutter the table at McDonald’s with large manuscript paper, my manuscript book and God knows what else.
Si Ying arrives approximately ten minutes to our meeting time. She’s changed quite a lot since I last saw her. Well it was ages really, considering it was during the A-Levels – two months back. She’s gotten contacts; she’s dyed her hair a little brown; and she’s into a relationship. How great the changes are. Me, I’m still the same, badly dishevelled and forever writing some God Knows What score. Probably the change I’ve undergone is the use of pen to compose now: I detest using the pencil now. Ink gives me greater strength and confidence.
Carol arrives rather late; it’s the fault of SBS Transit again. She shows us the folder containing information about United Artistes’ Network. Si Ying signs up. I’m not so sure, anyway I just sign up as I didn’t feel very good rejecting when my music partner has done so. I made plans to call a few days later to reject my application. Partly I don’t trust the company, as Wilfred discovered it to be a sham. Also I was not enthusiastic about paying money to go for grooming courses in return for artistic management. I would rather find and go for my own courses in music, be it composition, orchestration, conducting or performance.
* * *
After Carol leaves Si Ying and I decide to discuss the repertoire for our Mardi Gras performance. Mrs Yong had not provided the details; anyway we would scout around and suggest pieces to each other, until we got a confirmation and then we could settle the final programme. We threw in mostly songs from the cartoons, musicals and some pop stuff. I promised to send her my database of sheet music, while she would send me her list of songs that she could sing. Hopefully we would be able to choose songs that both of us were familiar with to lessen the need for much practice. We always have the habit of crashing out a rehearsal a few days or hours just before we’re about to showcase our stuff on stage. She knows my style; I know her's, so in the event something happens in the performance, we just keep going and listen out for each other. ¶ 1/20/2004 10:25:00 pm
