Bloody hell.

Was walking through the underground to the MRT station yesterday, and I ended up walking behind a guy in a white shirt. Just about as tall, a lil more lean than you, and even the same hair colour, with bits of grey in it.

Passed him by and hmm. Even with similar accents. I kinda missed you quite badly at that very moment.

And then today, as I was riding the lift down my office building, I inevitably glanced at some man punching away on his Blackberry, - and what's with you guys saving your wives' full name in the contact list, anyway?! - apparently sending a text to his wife about the cooking time for the chicken and potatoes in the oven - He called her 'babes'.

Reminded me of him.

I know I shouldn't be typing all these, as I'm sure you'll read this one of the days after you're back from your Rome trip, but I made a pact with myself a couple of years ago - I'm done being restricted about what I can or cannot write on my blog. All I will concede to, is keep the person-in-question anonymous. 

Blah, this sucks.