Of Chips and Jogs

This morning featured a restful, quiet slumber and I only stirred, ever so slightly, to the warm sunlight as it filtered into the room, until the shrill rings of Dad's phone call had me falling out of bed.

Downed my toast and tea before finishing the last half of Stephen King's Carrie. I scored the tattered and frayed paperback from the neighbourhood Library on my way home from church yesterday. Strangely enough, I found myself laughing rather than spooked out by it. A first for a King novel.

Despite managing a good lunch from last night's left over red wine chicken mee sua, the hunger pangs struck somewhere around 3 and so Jie and I headed down to 7-11 for a quick fix (throwing all thoughs of msg to the wind at that). Jie settled for good old Vanilla Pocky while I carted home a canister of hot, fresh fries.

I just cannot figure how Jagabee manages to keep each strand of these pre-packaged chips as fresh and fragrant as fries just off the hot oil. Anyhow, it was no wonder that there were only 3 canisters left despite them being tucked discreetly at the corner of a shelf. And I was glad to savour them as french fries rather than as potato chips, with lots of chilli sauce.

Unfortunately for us creatures without the Y chromosome, snacking is a sin, but one that can be atoned for by indulging in another activity we love! A packet of pocky and a can of jagabee in exchange for an energizing run up henderson waves. If only we had so much time, all the time. (Or maybe its just me who should be taking up more commitments).

And I found something interesting at the junction just before the ascent up Mount Faber.

An abandoned Starbucks! coffee bottle. I bet its owner must have been another one without the Y chromosome and probably didn't have time for a jog today.