Malaysian Air

Before y'all start wondering why I’ve been MIA, let me quickly defend myself and update you on my whereabouts.

So, I was supposed to write a blog post last Friday, but, you know, change moves faster than planning—so in true chaotic fashion, I didn’t do it. The plan was to go home, pack my stuff for JB, and take my sweet time, but nope! Change had other plans. I was told we had to head over to JB sooner instead of at midnight. That meant I had to pack everything in less than five minutes (basically speed-running my life), then rush out for dinner. And that is why there was no blog update on Friday.

Now, fast forward to dinner—my friend XT treated us! Bless her soul—she just got her first salary, so we celebrated with a salmon feast at Sushiro in Suntec City. When I say salmon feast, I mean it—75% of our dishes had salmon. Raw, cooked, half-raw… you name it, it had salmon. My friend even told me she once asked ChatGPT how many salmon Sushiro goes through daily. The answer? 10. Ten whole salmon. Can y'all even imagine how big a single salmon is in real life? And they’re using TEN. Mind-blowing.

After stuffing ourselves with fish, we walked around Suntec City, and only then did I realize—I had been there before! It hit me that I first visited this mall in 2023 with my F6 friends when I brought my brother to Singapore for his studies. No wonder it felt so familiar.

Then came the journey back to JB. There’s this particular feeling you get when you step into the hall after passing through Malaysian customs—the "Malaysian air." I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s just different from Singapore’s air. The first time I told my friend about this, she didn’t get it because she hadn’t started working in Singapore yet. But this time, after over a month of working in SG, she finally understood. In fact, she was the one who said, "Ah, the Malaysian air." I swear, those who cross the border regularly will get what I mean.

Malaysian Air

Saturday was a self-care day. I got my nails done, and at night, I went for a foot reflexology session and an Aroma Oil full-body massage. It was my first time getting a full-body massage, and as a bonus, they threw in a free body scraping session—also known as gua sha. And oh boy, let me tell you—it was intense.

As a first-timer, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. They gave me a disposable pair of panties (one-time-use undies? Fancy.), told me to strip, and then I just had to lie there and let them work their magic. My favorite part? The head and shoulder massage. I could literally hear my bones cracking, and it felt so good. My least favorite part? The gua sha on certain areas—especially the sides of my waist—because it was so. damn. itchy.

After all that, I went home and crashed, sleeping like a log until 11 AM the next morning. My body clock usually doesn’t let me sleep past 7 or 8 AM, but this massage knocked me out so hard that I slept past 11. A true sign that I need to go back for another session. As I get older, I swear I need treatments like this just to function.

But as always, happy times fly by too fast, and before I knew it, it was Sunday night, and I was back in Singapore. As my friend put it, "The happiness you feel in Malaysia is exactly equal to the unhappiness you feel in Singapore."

And to those who’d say, "Then go back la if you so unhappy, nobody ask you to stay in Singapore sia,"—(yes, I purposely wrote that in Singlish lol)—I just want to say: I am only here for the money. Because of the currency. That’s it. Being here to earn money ≠ enjoying being here. I’m just unhappily making money in Singapore. It doesn’t contradict. And I bet I’m not the only one.