the month of march changes

to me, march has never been a good time for me, ever. maybe i have unconsciously build a clockwork adapted to the financial year. the mad rush. that closure month. whatever it is, march sucks.

if i pulled my brains back to 5 years ago (thats as much as i can handle), march 2007 was nasty. i started biking. i went for a month full of lessons and the instructor was always a big time dickhead. it was always the half empty attitude and gloria you suck and girls shouldnt bike etc. i hated it. which explains why after trying for 3 years, i still dont have my license.

then in march 2008, the birdpark was merging with the zoo. your face would scrunch up way more than having clanging cymbals in your inner year. my bitch count of colleagues just quadrupled. my journey of adapting and learning the ropes to bitchhood started from there. tough month. i grew up. no wonder why i left for a company to kill the ones i was striving to conserve.

then came march 2009, i had to leave the company i grew to love so much. it ripped by heart out but it was starting to drain me dry. so i started diving religiously. i'd found myself a good bunch of friends. i dedicated a little to much to it. i remember joanne leaving that month after our first trip of the season out to dayang. i got addicted. i hung onto it like my life depended on it. i was willing to forgo almost anything. i pretty much did. i became a cynic. sadly after embracing it with all i had, diving no longer turns me on.

then march 2010 arrived. the jaded gloria and her cynism lived on. i grew weary. people called it depression. i called it restlessness. i had been jobless for a year. my brains were mouldy. i was deep down in the dumps of dumps. i grew fat. i piled on the weight like i needed it. my house became a frathouse. i moved back home. i started having housemates. i wrote my cv. i woke up. i turned away my dream jobs and settled for a company quite unconventional.

finally march 2011. housemates came and left, are leaving. i was working for a boss who wanted to shut the company down because i had a manager pulling the plug. i had long weeks or dreadful nights, torn between the love and hate. i was getting too pudgy. i no longer had a rugby team to rely on, no diving to tan for, no boyfriend to look good for. love handles started to manifest. i got dragged to yoga. hot yoga. hot classic bikram. and it killed me. im starting to reach my toes. i need to be here everyday. i'm sitting in the gym as i type. im hooked. im gonna be a tinier me. a fitter me. a better me.

right.

maybe, just maybe marches are there to whip me to shape. its my closing month. my month to allow new things to engulf me. overwhelm me. and more often than not, though i'd usually hate it as much as how some people hate the christmas festives, it serves as a kick in the ass to move on. it is my driving force to change. it is grueling, brutal and cruel and heartbreaking, it crushes my being and though i always dwell on things longer than i should. march changes all that. april comes as refreshing as new years do.

transitional march. you gotta march on.