On your MARK...

Monday, 16th October

10:10 a.m.

It's the first day of PSLE marking and I am sitting at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaves after collecting an article from the post office.

I'll be heading to this school somewhere in the north district to assume my duty as a recorder for the PSLE results. The article I've just collected is from dear Terry - “For 18th October….”. It's my birthday gift from him.

Thanks! I love you too!

The End of Faith -
Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason
by Sam Harris

Dear Terry sent me a book. Curiosity got the better of me. Full of anticipation while maintaining decorum, I carefully unwrapped the parcel and there it was, the beautiful hardcover looking back at me.

Paraphrasing the book:

There is a young man, bombs, nails, ball bearing and rat poison strapped onto him. While being an eminent harbinger of death, he boards a bus and sits next to a couple who had just decided on a model of refrigerator.

When the bus was full - filled with everyday people, people who are not very different from the one you met at the supermarket today, he ignited the bomb that destroys him along with the busload of everyday people.

His parents got the news of their son's death.

They wept.

Hearts brimming with pride.

10:30 a.m.

Gotta get to marking centre! I am suppose to arrive at 11:30 a.m., that means I should have plenty of time.

10:55 a.m.

Drats… what's taking bus #13 so long…?

11:00 a.m.

Can't be late on the first day. Where's a taxi when you need one… there's one!

In the cab…

Me: Please take me XYZ Primary School. It's located in XYZ.

Cabbie: Which part of XYZ…?

M: Oh, I have the map… hold on, let me take it out…

Taxi suddenly jerks ahead, my coffee filled tumbler tumbles and dribbles onto my seat. Drops of coffee landed on my shirts and pants.

M (angry at cabbie's stupid decision to jerk ahead despite my request for him to hold on): It's at XYZ, Street 123.

I then embark on a frantic attempt to wipe off the coffee stains on my shirt and pants while silently cursing at the cabbie who evidently cannot follow simple instructions, like “hold on”.

11:15 a.m.

Finally arrive at the marking center. Ms T and Z are there. We chat and joked and waited for 11:30 to arrive.

11:30 a.m.

The person briefing us on the procedure is a nag and condescending.

The Briefer: Please be very careful and professional (yada, yada, yada, yada, yada) I am sure you would not want to give yourself any chance of committing those errors…

Me (in my thoughts): Excuse me, but I am thirty, NOT thirteen…

2:25 p.m.

I've been reading the book I've just bought - Mitch Albom's latest, “For One More Day” since the briefing earlier.

2:30 p.m.

We've been waiting in the hot and haze-filled room for the first set of marked papers to arrive so that we can tabulate and record the scores. It didn't happen till now. But since it's time for our break…

3:00 p.m.

End of the break… oh, the first set of papers that arrived half an hour ago had been settled by the other team.

Hmm… will rest and continue with my book…

3:30 p.m.

Another set arrives…

4:00 p.m.

Done. Now where's my book…?

4:30 p.m.

Ooh, time to pack up… let me place a tab on my book.

I have completed three quarters of the book.

I think I should be able to complete the book by tomorrow.

Yay… I think.

5:15 p.m.

Finally! They've cleared the papers for the day and we can leave - forty-five minutes after they announced that we are done for the day…

We'll see what further adventures will happen tomorrow (though I am not looking forward to it…).