In the past two weeks, the main activity of my day at home has been mopping the floor. The pre-school stint changed my understanding of mopping being a backbreaking job that did not proportionately produce the same amount of cleanliness for the effort put in.
Upon quitting the playschool, I bought a mop and pail-on-wheels that weekend, and have since religiously run the mop over the floor every morning.
Today, I was attempting to stir fry my cold and hardened duck/seoh-bak rice with the brine from a can of mushrooms and a few pieces of canned pork ribs. My gas supply did a fast one on me. I know I have a spare tank, but I simply am not macho enough to handle exchanging the two tanks by my single feminine self (or at least I did not want to be that capable – I still need to leave some things for the men to do right?). I naturally called the all-knowing Mum, in my dependent-daughterly instinct, who provided me with a simple way out – microwave. Not that difficult, really, I thought to myself. A couple of weeks having my brain under-utilised with so much free time certainly has dire retardation effects on my everyday problem-solving abilities.
My average day during this pre-posting-to-a-primary-school and post-hectic-12-hour-days period begins after a luxuriously sinful 8-hour beauty sleep. I wake up with the first thing on my mind being mopping: should I vacuum instead, do both, use the terrazzo-treatment cleaner or give mopping a miss today? Difficult decision to make first thing in the morning.
If I am feeling motivated or desperate enough to maintain my 48kg frame with non-meeting upper thighs, then the first thing I would do is go for a 15- to 20-minute jog round Aquarius.
Feeling soaked and achieved (immediately feeling energised after a jog is a downright lie), and refreshed with my Gatorade, I would indulge myself in the newspapers, reading leisurely while having my breakfast.
By the end of this cooling down activity, I would be ready for my Big Mop, part two of the day’s workout, before I realise I have to rush for lunch and my bath if I wanted to get to tuition on time.
One of the little joys I get in my day is squeezing an online session while having lunch and finding a personal mail among a daily portion of “Farm Girls”-“Lonely Grannies”-“Prom Nights”-“Chicks With Dicks”-“Her First Time!”-“Paris Hilton”-“Meaty Sausages” spam mail. Another would be having a friend-to-friend chat with my Mum over the phone, or with Ly when we eventually have a common break in our day.
I realised my life has been reduced to a companion-yearning, activity-seeking one. I would have my hopes all high when I finally get to talk to Ly and awfully disappointed when the conversation isn’t fulfilling. I get all excited planning what to wear just to watch a movie with my Mum and sister. I thumb through my handphone’s phonebook to find someone to call out. I have nothing to write in my blog.
Upon quitting the playschool, I bought a mop and pail-on-wheels that weekend, and have since religiously run the mop over the floor every morning.
Today, I was attempting to stir fry my cold and hardened duck/seoh-bak rice with the brine from a can of mushrooms and a few pieces of canned pork ribs. My gas supply did a fast one on me. I know I have a spare tank, but I simply am not macho enough to handle exchanging the two tanks by my single feminine self (or at least I did not want to be that capable – I still need to leave some things for the men to do right?). I naturally called the all-knowing Mum, in my dependent-daughterly instinct, who provided me with a simple way out – microwave. Not that difficult, really, I thought to myself. A couple of weeks having my brain under-utilised with so much free time certainly has dire retardation effects on my everyday problem-solving abilities.
My average day during this pre-posting-to-a-primary-school and post-hectic-12-hour-days period begins after a luxuriously sinful 8-hour beauty sleep. I wake up with the first thing on my mind being mopping: should I vacuum instead, do both, use the terrazzo-treatment cleaner or give mopping a miss today? Difficult decision to make first thing in the morning.
If I am feeling motivated or desperate enough to maintain my 48kg frame with non-meeting upper thighs, then the first thing I would do is go for a 15- to 20-minute jog round Aquarius.
Feeling soaked and achieved (immediately feeling energised after a jog is a downright lie), and refreshed with my Gatorade, I would indulge myself in the newspapers, reading leisurely while having my breakfast.
By the end of this cooling down activity, I would be ready for my Big Mop, part two of the day’s workout, before I realise I have to rush for lunch and my bath if I wanted to get to tuition on time.
One of the little joys I get in my day is squeezing an online session while having lunch and finding a personal mail among a daily portion of “Farm Girls”-“Lonely Grannies”-“Prom Nights”-“Chicks With Dicks”-“Her First Time!”-“Paris Hilton”-“Meaty Sausages” spam mail. Another would be having a friend-to-friend chat with my Mum over the phone, or with Ly when we eventually have a common break in our day.
I realised my life has been reduced to a companion-yearning, activity-seeking one. I would have my hopes all high when I finally get to talk to Ly and awfully disappointed when the conversation isn’t fulfilling. I get all excited planning what to wear just to watch a movie with my Mum and sister. I thumb through my handphone’s phonebook to find someone to call out. I have nothing to write in my blog.
I understand now why housewives in Tampines Mall (a mere heartland mall) on weekends overdress (donning on the full regalia of a woman – sexy clothes, heels and cosmetics), and why housewives nag their husbands when their men return.
What these women need is activity outside their menial mundane indoor jobs, a
chance to dress up and feel beautiful, words of appreciation, emotional intimacy
and sometimes, simply human interaction.
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