Day 27: Smells like burnt bananas

I'm hoping Jessica or Alexis would upload the pictures soon so I can post them here. But anyway, there was a Gobble Gobble Gathering earlier this afternoon. Cliched name for a social, but a delightful meal nonetheless. It was a competition - in which I don't think there was a winner, or maybe I've plainly forgotten - where residents would form teams and cook an entree and a dessert, enough for at least fifteen. There were five teams so naturally, we cooked for plenty more.

Alexis decided on roasted pork (comes with real rice, unlike tasteless ones from dining halls) and banana fritters. Or, as we prefer to call it, pisang goreng, which literally translates to be fried bananas. And it was such a gratifying dessert at that, though I wouldn't exactly call it a dessert. Nonetheless, I was put charge of the frying while Alexis nurtured her pork, and at the end of the day, everyone gets away with a free meal.

I, of course, couldn't escape the inevitable smell of vegetable oil glued to my body, along with the aftermath of spilled flour. The windows wouldn't open and no one could figure out how to start the fan, which caused a minor haze in the kitchen. But all's well after the eating and cleaning. Not many stayed to help for the latter, shame, but I managed to salvage coconut puddings prepared by a couple of Vietnamese residents. They'll do for a mild supper.

Pooh bear comes to mind when I think of my tendency to fall on my bed after a scrumptious meal. He had his hunny pot, I had my pork chop.

To wonder... I almost missed out on this delightful opportunity for great company and food. Were I to be left to my own devices, in an empty room, who knows what I would've done instead?

...

That sounded suicidal, but of course that's not what I meant. I would perhaps have spent all afternoon watching movies, neglecting the pile of work on my desk. Holidays don't bode too well for me, they tire me even more. I'm not pushed for my work, so I delay them. But when it comes for the time to hand them in, I panic. I need a better system. I need a workable routine. But before that, let me wash away that delicious scent still clinging onto my shirt. It's distracting, it's tempting, it's unseen but oh!-so hypnotic. I don't need that. I need to work! And work I shall~