Dredged.

A faint throb.
A quiver.
A breath.
A trickle.

Wanted : Me-Time

Paddling furiously, what is the purpose of working this hard?

I L-O-V-E what I do, but at what expense?

For every pupil that I take under my wing, I rake $800-$1400 and hence, it is easy to overload my schedule with numerous pupils.

I'm in high demand as there is a waiting list of anxious parents who would like me to teach their children. Word of mouth from previous pupils has ensured that this list has swelled over the years.

There is plenty in terms of moolah, but the opportunity to reap its benefits are few and far between, save for the school holidays.

Nary a minute is spared on myself as I race against Time.

Wednesdays are with Him while Sundays are for church and hanging out with V till evening beckons.

However, I'm in dire need of some Me-Time.

My spare change for some Me-Time is in the wee hours, when darkness cloaks and all is still.

The opportunity cost? Sleep.

I'm Tired, but not Jaded.

I love what I do.

I'm very good at what I do.

But the price I'm paying for fattened wads is intangible.

One day, it shall bite back with a vengeance.

Moolah.

Money.

Is it really that important?

Can it really make one Happy?

Then pray, what is the cost of Happiness?

It must be a sum far more enormous than that of six figures, for that has not bagged the coveted prize.

Seven figures? Nope, for that's in place.

When will it be Enough to grasp the throes of joy?

Oh, snap! Wait a minute!

Silly me. There's no price tag on Happiness!

What was I thinking, that wads could pad delight upon delight?

Go Figure.

Moolah.

The Tree.

On the surface, the Tree appears to be sturdy and proud.

They admire its canopy from afar, for its opulence marks the heart of the forest.

The leaves rustle & fall, 5000 to be exact.

The days go by and another 10 000 are shed.

3000 more find their way to the ground,

5000 soon follow closely behind

And then, 24 000 adds to the score.

15 000 are raked away.

Fall arrives and a gust of wind throttles the Tree, claiming 35 000 leaves in the process.

The Tree is chastised for scattering its leaves in an unsightly manner.

Nobody remembers the Tree for its magnificence in the seasons gone by.

The leaves which once adorned its crown lie crumpled and are trodden upon.

They forget that the Tree shall sprout new leaves again.

And those lush leaves will be held in high regard once more.

Yes, Spring is nigh.

Despite shedding more than 100 000 leaves & being unappreciated, the Tree blossoms and is fruitful,

For that is its very nature.

And it shall bear yet another 200 000 leaves soon.

Very soon.

For now, it weeps for each leaf shed in vain.