During moments of extreme tiredness, I get experience exceedingly brief dissociative flashes. For instance, earlier during dinner with a friend at Nepal (a restaurant so renowned for its Royal Nepalese cuisine that even tourists on stopovers hurry here with their luggage to eat), we were pretty much surrounded by foreigners. As I stared out the door into Staunton Street, where the Spot Bar and Portobello, a typical English cafe, stand, quite a few locals walked by. For one brief moment, I just thought, "Why are there so many Chinese here?" before realising that I was in Hong Kong. Heh.

Anyway, I asked my friend, a Pakistani who's been working here for over a year, to teach me some Cantonese. So this is my main plan for tomorrow: Ting yat hoi Tung Lo Wan hang gai. Of course, it's been my main plan for the last few weekends as well, but somehow, something always disrupts that.

For instance, today, it was because I had to do laundry, and true enough, the ironing of shirts took far longer than expected. While I'm not all that domesticated, I don't mind household chores all that much. I do hate mopping and ironing though. To that end, I'd been trying to put off doing laundry for a few days now, but there comes a point when you just can't put it off any longer. That day was today, and coming on the back of a 5 am clubbing night, I really wasn't in the best of shapes to handle it. And that explains why I'm at my apartment at 10 pm on a Saturday night, with a bunch of slightly crumpled shirts hanging in my wardrobe.