Y’know, every week before I book in, my final few minutes in my house are always filled with melancholy.
For some reason, I have this inexplicably deep sadness whenever I’m just about to leave. And I’m not kidding here. It’s not just some oh-I-have-to-book-back-in-again kind of grudging sadness, it’s full blown depression.
What I feel every week is akin to the type of feeling you have when you know you’re leaving some place forever, like say you’re moving to another country (or even another part of Singapore) permanently. Which, y’know, is kind of weird seeing as I’ll be back in the house in just a week’s time. But still, my mind (and heart) apparently work in mysterious ways.
I don’t understand the origin of this feeling but heck, it’s damn saddening when I have to have it every single week.