So why I am depressed? What is this blue funk I am in? That led me to massacre my hair.

Two weeks ago, my vaca plans were dashed when KH said he was anticipating a large tender coming in and he'd have to design the system. We had to pay extra to defer our plane tickets to December. Luckily his company paid up. But still, there went my two weeks of vaca in Penang.

Just then, my colleague told me I'd have to move. Move from my cosy cubicle in the sky, with its own window space, down to the bowels of the general office. Okay, I exaggerate but yes, I will have to move. The space I have now is lovely - a largish cubicle, great roomies, the water-cooler is right next door and I have a window - premium stuff! Here, far away from my boss, I could listen to music while I worked, check on emails etc. Okay, generally slack off, bad girl that I am.

But now, the party's over. I have to move. Down to the main office where I lose my window and my sense of privacy. I've looked at the plans and its 'open concept' office where basically every Joe that walks past behind me gets to see what's on my screen. I feebly protest. Didn't get anywhere. Bargained for a 'screen' - quite desperately - but does not look like it will succeed. I have ideas for hot-desking but I also don't think it will work and right now, am too uninspired to try raising it.

Went home in a big depressed haze. Brooding. Panicky.

When KH's big tender papers failed to show, he decided to cheer me up by taking us to Malacca for a short extended weekend trip.

There, the full extent of my stress and depression was unleashed - on my face. I broke out with a red, tender, splotchy and swollen mess of a rash that spread from my left cheekbone to my left eyelid, down to my left earlobe. It wasn't any ordinary rash. It had irregular shaped blobs of pus.

To say I looked awful is an understatement. KH said I looked like someone bashed me up. But I gamely walked around Malacca and KL. Did I care that I looked like shit? No. I didn't know anyone and trusted that no one knew me and anyway, I was happy to wallow in depression.

Notwithstanding all that, I had a decently good time eating my favourite stuff (mee siam at Donald and Lily's, razor clams in belachan, prawn mee, wanton mee) and discovered where Madam Fatso had gone to. Next trip I will have my milk crabs. I was also happy to find a good range of Kdramas and their OSTs. So now I know where I can get my K-drama fix in Malacca.

Came home to find that while the rash on the face subsided, it had erupted on my left arm. A visit to the doctor and to the specialist drew blanks. Even a swab and culture came up empty. The doctor was baffled but as it was clearing up, we let it pass. I think its remnants of a mutated herpes virus that got triggered by my stress and depression over my office move.

On top of that, I had a fever while in Malacca. Spiked high one night and then went away. But as the days passed, I developed a dry cough which is now getting worse. As I write, I can hear the chest-rattling phlegm whenever I coughed.

So now, my funk. I was actually relieved to be on medical leave and not be back in the office. Could not bear that I am one day, one week closer to moving. Not just moving location but moving to a different phase of my work life. Gosh that sounds so drama, but I feel it so. I think this move is just a catalyst for what has been swirling deep inside me for the longest time.

This weird mix of restlessness, boredom, sadness.

My funk - if I have to put it simply, I guess I'm searching for some meaning in life. That sounds very trite.

I don't know what else there is to do in life. Not very happy at work. I find work and life in general, a grind and generally I'm feeling very restless but I'm also scared to probe, look too deep or ask myself too many hard questions in case I don't like what I see. Does it make sense to say I'm running from myself?

I think I know my problem. Too lazy. Have it too good and now cannot stir myself. Thats why work looks so unappealing. I've thought about it. The only cure for laziness is to cut off choice. Throw me into the deep end where I have no time to decide if I would like to have a pina colada on the beach or pink champagne on the lounger - I just have to swim. But the very thought of that horrifies my lazy soul to the core. Look at the poor starving masses in a famine or poverty-stricken land - no choice, they just take what is given. Laziness is an affliction of the well-endowed. Not talking about financially rich. I'm certainly not that. But in my life, I have been very blessed and look what I have done with it. I've become fatter and lazier and wasted it.

I am naturally indolent but its now eating away at me. I procrastinate and am easily gratified by cheap retail therapy. The hair therapy was a mistake. I am not a productive mother at home and I'm not productive in the office either. Then I feel guilty for being non-productive.

I look in the future and ask: so what's there eh? Solution: quit boring job but that is too frightening and too much for my lazy butt to comtemplate. Even that might not be an answer. Find a passion and do something - but like what? Even birth issues make me feel laggy. I don't feel the same passion/fire for it. So then what? I did think of going back to school - picking up a uni course since I never did go to uni. But its just idle empty thoughts. I don't think I have the courage to do this.

See what I mean when I say I am going around in aimless circles?

After two weeks of feeling grief at losing my comfy space in life, my cubicle and generally anger at being uprooted, I think I have come to terms a bit better with it. I tell myself God has a plan. He must surely have a plan for me when I move. I may not like it. I may not know what's coming. Indeed, it might force me into action from my current slug position. I don't know. I just get the feeling that there are rapids ahead but also I cling on to the knowledge that God has a plan. And whatever plan, it will work out for me somehow. So that makes me feel a bit better. Maybe this is exactly what I need. Not want, but need.

I'm still thinking so tune in next time for another episode of Momto5 Goes Quietly Insane.