An early German Christmas

We had our team Christmas dinner at a German restaurant in Tanjong Pagar today; this catered slightly better for vegetarians than Hamburg, the restaurant I went to in Osaka after the marathon this November. Which is to say, there was more for me to eat apart from just potatoes.

I ended up with a bowl of mac and cheese, that quintessential North American comfort food, usually eaten only by children, the nostalgic and people who forget about grocery shopping until it's too late. It's odd that I never had mac and cheese as a child, but then I never visited North America until I was 23 and (comparatively) affluent; by then the opportunity had passed me by. It's odder that I should be eating American comfort food in a German restaurant in Singapore, but I'm taking medication for cognitive dissonance. (It's called booze.)

We had wine, and we had heavy duty German dessert, and so when I got back to the office I wasn't at my best; bear in mind that I was beset with resolving a multitude of minor aggravations today, none of which were amenable to me pressing a button on a computer and sitting back to relax. By the time I got home, all pleasant memory of my carbohydrate-laden, fat-engulfed lunch had evaporated and I was sinking back to my default setting, 'vaguely narked'.

One of the consolations of marriage is that at times like this, your wife can console you, which was a boon. I returned the favour by making her watch me punch virtual Chinese vampires in the face in a simulation of Hong Kong.

I've been trying to limit myself to an hour of Sleeping Dogs per day, after I've achieved something significant. Today, I ate some salad. Ah well.