Moment of Truths.

Trains have stopped from Dhoby Ghaut to Harbourfront. I'm not so pleased to be able to tell all of you that I was on the train that caused that hold up.

I took time off work today as usual for driving, and on the way back after buying lunch I lazed around in the train. Opposite me was this reeeeally cute little boy. Little kids and MRT poles have this strange affinity.

But anyway. The train stopped awhile at Chinatown while I contemplated getting out and walking back. I admit now that I didn't do it that the tidbits in Chinatown played a not so little part in the persuasion - but. I didn't get off.

Trundle, trundle, the train moved on. Outram - everyone who wasn't going to harbourfront - precious few - crowded the door. The people outside looked at us. We looked out of the glass door at them. We both waited for the moment of reunion when we could swop places with them and they with us.

That moment never came.

The train moved on to Harbourfront with the not so helpful advice to get off then and take the other train back. Okay, I can do that, I thought, adding fifteen min or so to my destination time.

As this lil ole lady succinctly put it...

PLING! PLONG! PLANG!

And the lights went off.

The bimbotic girl opposite me murmuring sweet nothings into her phone started tearing up and shooting glances at "potentials" - lucky, I was only carrying a small bag and food. Must've been the food.

This green-shirt clad SMRT man came by. "Doan panic! Eez power failure oneeey!" At which Ms Hysterical darkly told her phone that they were lying and it was a terrorist attack. I was kinda hoping said phone would die and not us.

At this point the people on the train were either looking at Ms H in horror/disgust or jabbing the intercom button and demanding to be saved immediately, the latter camp consisting of one person only.

To cut a long and rather boring story short, we got out of there in about 45 min. The only danger posed to me was starvation and/or oxygen deprivation.

And then I came home and found my closet collapsed. Okay, not COLLAPSED per se, but a pretty close approximate -scowls-

Talk about Monday-bloody-blues.