“What do you do if you know someone who makes you extremely happy just by their presence and it feels like they’re built to make you happy, but then you realise that you’re not built to be the one that makes them happy?”

I think we’ve all felt this at some point..

I guess the most you can do is hope that they find someone who makes them just as happy as they make you. 

And yes it sucks that you can’t give them that. But if they truly make you happy, you’d want them to be happy first before anything else. Regardless of the circumstance.

Mid Morning Delight

So today, like every other day since I started working, around 11am, I started to feel slightly dizzy and light-headed. And hungry.

I’m hungry most days without much motivation to actually eat something. Today wouldn’t be much different. But I had some free time and thought that I should at least go to the staff café and pick up a snack to keep me going. My energy levels were also dropping. I thought I would get some chips or packaged nuts or an energy bar or something.

I walked into the poorly lit café. The trays that served hot food were empty. Breakfast time had ended and the cooks were working on making the lunch menu. I walked over to the shelf with bags upon bags of chips. “Kumara crisps” the bright red writing on the packets said. A boast that this is super healthy, why wouldn’t you pick me? Low salted, baked and virtually bland, oddly shaped chips that can scratch the inside of your mouth or crumble down the front of your shirt as soon as you bite into one. I picked up a bag without enthusiasm.

Just then, someone walked past me with a small paper bag in their hand. They had come from the other side of the pillar I was standing in front of, where the cabinet was. The cabinet usually has sugary treats. Caramel slices, passionfruit cheesecake, raspberry brownies, etc. I’m not a big sweet tooth. So there’s no point in my going over to the cabinet.

But the person that walked past me said “I’ve just got a Danish” to the lady at the cash register.


I curiously went over to the other side and saw a large platter with a cake cover placed over it on top of the cabinet that had the same treats they always had. The platter however, had four, flat, eye-shaped, bright golden pastries piled one on top of the other. “Danish” the pink writing on the outside of the cover read. That’s a terrible description, I thought. I lifted the lid and eyed the pastries. I could immediately smell butter, sugar, and something like golden syrup intertwine and assault my senses.

Hmm. The pastries were eye-shaped with a border of pastry crust but a centre of custard and three raspberries in a row baked in with the pastry. And the whole thing was covered in  a layer of dried golden syrup. This looks promising, I told myself.

I picked one up and placed it in a white paper bag and headed for the cash register.

When I was back in my office, I pulled the pastry out of the bag and saw the top few layers of pastry crumble into my hands. Ooooh. that’s the sign of good pastry.

The smell was strong as I brought the pastry to my mouth and took a bite, making sure I had a mouthful of the pastry, the custard and the raspberry all at once.

In a word: Heavenly

The pastry crumbled away in my mouth as the soft, sweet custard and golden syrup delighted my taste buds, and the tart and perfectly cooked raspberries cut through the sweetness, and sent a burst of flavour straight to the pleasure centres of my brain.

Every bite, the buttery, crumbly, slightly sweet pastry alone, or the soft, creamy, perfectly balanced custard alone, or the small but immensely flavour concentrated raspberry bringing it all together, made me smile. I took small bites, savouring it and making sure I was aware of every mouthful.

It was the first time in days that I actually enjoyed eating something. My mouth was very happy. And I had the right amount of sugar and happiness in my brain to continue on with my day


I find that everyday, people give me new and interesting reasons to lower my expectations of them even further.

I find that I have to really think about why I did things.

But then the answer is clear.

Because it makes me happy.

But that means that I just have to make my expectations fall to a level of zero. If I decide to do something, my intention should always always be because it makes me happy. Because then I can’t be disappointed when others don’t do what I expect.

Initially I thought I was allowed to have expectations.


Moving forward, that’s a rather freeing feeling I suppose. If I don’t expect anything of anyone, I can go ahead and be who I am.

And nothing is allowed to change that.

Birthday Flashbacks 

Does anyone remember these? 

We used to call them “rockets” when I was in primary school. Or “rolly biscuits”. I’m sure there’s some form of sophisticated name for them. Like wafer rolls or something. But they’ll always be known as rockets to me. 
Why are they on this blog, you may ask? Well I spent my birthday indoors reading a book. It was actually very relaxing, don’t worry. I was content. And I was replying to birthday wishes all day. But I felt the general mood was lower than last year. Which is fine because as I’ve said, 22 is a pretty meh age. And there’s not much hype about it. But it did make me feel terribly old, as my friends seemed to be too busy adult-ing to spend ages talking to me on my birthday. 

But what did happen on the day following my birthday is that I got a chance to catch up with some friends and we found ourselves in a rather low key, but fancy enough restaurant. One of those ‘hidden treasures’ as they say. And it was indeed that for me, because when I ordered dessert, lo and behold they brought me a piece of my childhood!! 

I can’t explain my feelings when I saw the rocket. I was overcome with excitement such that I didn’t take a moment to photograph it. I hadn’t eaten or even seen one in years. Instantly when I bit into it, I was transported back to my childhood when I would spend lunchtimes with my friends arguing about what super power would suit us best while munching on a couple of rockets, straight out of a round tin full of them. Trying to eat all of it without the crumbs falling down. And if any did, it was one of life’s biggest disappointments. 

Ah. ‘Twas a simpler time. 

It’s funny how happy this little thing made me. I felt no longer 22. I enjoyed being 8 in those few moments. It reminded me just how sticky the mind can be. It seems to latch on so vividly to little things. And when triggered, releases such a huge wave of emotions just like that. Good and bad. But if it’s good, it’s really good. 

I enjoyed this birthday in a way I never thought I would. And I’m grateful. Even if I am 22, I’m pretty sure I’m 8 whenever I see a rocket.