Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

Prospects are grim when you are penniless, tired, hungry and thirsty, and alone in the busy streets of Orchard, smacked in the madding crowd and home is very far away.

The euphoria from shopping conquests has long worn off.

You despair of having paid in cash, just to enjoy a bigger discount, thereby depleting the wallet completely.

You forget the ATM machine in Far East Plaza has been torn down.

In utter misery, you remember you own no ubiquitously used POSB ATM card either because the replacement one has not come in. You have no idea of the pin numbers on the debit and credit cards.

You attempt to flag a cab with no success.

You dial for a cab but are put on waiting mode forever.

You walk all the way to Paragon to your secret cab-waiting place only to find it infested with people.

With sheer tenacity, you decide to throw in the towel (oxymoronic or what) and take the public transport.

Money-less. Tired. Hungry. Thirsty. Alone.

You carry a bag of pretty clothes but you know you look like shit.

You stumble your way from the underground passageway in Lucky Plaza and hope to see the fading interior lights of Takashimaya very soon.

In a daze, you heard someone calling out your name in disbelief.

Angeline?

Every cloud has a silver lining.

You meet a good friend entirely by the filmsy-est chance.

You wail out your ridiculous circumstance. That you are - Money-less. Tired. Hungry. Thirsty. Alone.

The friend feeds you and keeps you in good company on the way home.

You apologise for coming across as an unglam drenched diva soaked to her painted toenails.

The two of you laughed over the perils of working and life – and the constant efforts NOT to be harassed, haggard and harried.

You still have no money. But you are full in all senses.

Every cloud has a silver lining. You will remember this in lesser moments.

Thanks, Ryan. Your presence that night affirms the other saying that hope springs eternal. I have never been so bloody glad to see anyone.