the alcohol allure

8 Days 800th issue launch. Was. Weird. and discomfiting, maybe because we are getting paid for doing so little. The only plus was perhaps the door gift with Jacob's Creek Sparkling Rose (!!!). And Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. It's embarrassing how a little bit of alcohol can evoke such violent reactions of (!!!); maybe I'm just deprived. Or maybe it's just that gift vouchers for facials/swatch/"Munich" movie pass aren't as mind-numbing. Ah I shouldn't be complaining, freebies are also good, even if they encourage indulgence and excessive, redundant spending.

Talking about redundant spending, it was amazing how the Mediacorp people just went to buy 4 stands because they forgot to bring them, and we're talking about the black heavy ones that aren't cheap. Reminds me of how NUS is now implementing the fee hike after spending so much hiring musicians for the NUS Centennial Symphony. (Of course that's not it, but still, it was a whole lot of money and they shouldn't be burdening students like that even if they think the education they provide is worth every cent.)

Today made me realise a few things though.

Having one member out of the quartet missing in action disturbs balance. I suppose sometimes you get so used to the way a person cues, plays, the tempo, the tone, that when someone else enters the picture, and makes the differences known and obvious and significant, even if there's nothing wrong with the playing per se, everything just feels out of sorts, you have this niggling feeling that it could be better, but can't, at least not for that moment.

I realised today that I get frustrated when I know that something can be way better, but can't make that happen, due to circumstances or otherwise. I suppose I've always known that there's a perfectionist in me somewhere, but it never came out so strongly until today. And it was scary. It felt horrible knowing that we weren't playing as well as we could/should, it felt wrong sitting around and not doing anything and still getting paid for that. I realised that I have all these expectations that I impose on myself, and so when I don't meet those expectations, no matter what other people say, I'll never be convinced, and typing all this out now seems so revealing and so stupid.

It's just that time of the night where the subconscious surfaces, probably. Random thoughts in random pieces.