I’m a bit lost.

I don’t know, I’m a bit overwhelmed these days. I have mixed emotions about our big move.

Yesterday, my girls and I had a late afternoon walk to savor the cooler temperature. Metro Manila is turning into an oven nowadays but here in my hometown it’s just right.

We walked some more to go outside the university campus to buy school supplies for their school project. I swear it’s always easier to buy school stuff here than back in QC because that means traveling to a mall to a National Bookstore branch. Small shops here are super accessible. They may not carry the whole range of stuff people may or may not need but they cover the basics. I don’t have to drive to get them and I survived my school years with just the likes of them catering to my needs. I just walked. If I needed Japanese paper for some school art project, I just run to those stores. No need to bother my parents. In my current setup (in past 7 years), I always have to drive at the last minute for school supplies/project materials because stores like these are concentrated in commercial centers like malls or within universities so I still need to drive. Or if we have time, I ask Ate C to buy in the next barangay where an Ansons store is located.

Anyway, after that school chore is done, we walked to a small restaurant where we had dinner with my bro’s family.

It’s almost done ❤️ my tiny house not on wheels. They’re still making the new staircase but basically this area outside will be my patio/grill station and I will try to make a brick pizza oven. On the far right will be my laundry/utility area that will be covered with polycarbonate roofing.

They have to build my industrial-grade steel staircase and then set the pavers for the patio and make my laundry/utility area and install the roofing. Then landscaping.

They finally cut the jackfruit tree. The mid-landing of my staircase is wide enough to accomodate a bistro table and chair. Or just a bench would suffice.

Even though one tree died for my house, I still have plenty in my yard. In the mornings I hear the breeze and the birds chirping. In the evenings I hear the cicadas.

I’m getting impatient now but at the same time I’m already feeling nostalgic about the apartment I’m going leave behind. That apartment is old and it has lots of vermin but I was able to make a somewhat comfortable existence in it for almost 5 years. I will miss the convenience of the place as I am flanked by two supermarkets, a laundromat across the street, a huge number of food places to try and go to. I will miss Grab Food and Grab Car. I will miss Zennya.

Anyway, it’s still midday. We are going out later to walk around the campus.

I’m now in the room where I lived since 1992. It is where my girls first cried their lungs out for six months after staying in the NICU for 32 days in 2011. It’s a storage room for now, where things that have no place are dumped—just like me.

The storage boxes above contain my journalism memories of the past 17 years. These are my old notebooks and newspaper copies that featured my investigative pieces that were published every Sunday by my old company. I must sift through them and throw away 90% of them. I still have my childhood crap somewhere in this house that I need to sort and throw away. My diaries since 1989. That’s a lot of crap. I only stopped writing on journals when I discovered blogging in 2003. I tried keeping handwritten journals after that but it was just too painful to write the things I needed to write…I could have saved myself from staying in a bad marriage if I allowed myself to vent out and parse through the things I’ve been through.

Oh well, what is done is done. It is what it is.

I’m now close to perfecting my chicken rice. I discovered that poaching the chicken first with the usual ginger, onions/scallions, a bit of sugar, and salt (or salt substitute) and then cooking it on top of the rice (with the chicken rice mix that I buy in Singapore) in the rice cooker produce a nicely done chicken. Not Tong Fong Fatt level but better than the Wee Nam Kee here.

Before leaving the apartment this afternoon, my sister asked if I have badminton rackets that I want to give away because their maid’s child needed a racket. I remember buying them a couple of years ago, when I deluded myself into thinking that my kids and I would be playing regularly in UP Diliman on weekends.

Goodbye, rackets. You didn’t have much use. I’m throwing away the memories that came with these because I bought them from Decathlon with the ex.

The girls were so little then. 😊

Now they’re into this:

I’m hormonal today. I feel melancholic. I shouldn’t let my mind wander to the past.

I feel bad about my crappy editing today. I’m just not up to it. Another editor questioned my edits and I was like, yeah ok, I did badly today.

There were just too many things piling on top of me. Like I needed to negotiate the pay for the freelancer that we are about to hire. I never got to that because my reporters figured they needed to submit all their stories today for editing. I also drafted the business case for hiring the freelancer and but I have yet to submit the docs to the talent acquisition team. On top of that, I have three pending stories I need to write and they’re still nagging me at the back of my brain. I also farmed out coverage/leads to follow for my team. Scheduled interviews and read more stories to be abreast of the latest business news globally and took down notes.

I was supposed to go to my bank because my atm cards are soon expiring. Once I move out of this apartment, dealing with my bank physically would be too much of a chore. But nope. I was stuck with too much work.

And the thing I made last night… I could no longer improve it. I did what I could. That is that. I’ll just revisit this when I’m no longer pissed.

Because I’m pissed, wanted to vent my fury and just do freehand washes with my mopping brush. I went for pastels to calm me down.

That’s it. A quick drawing to release tension.

I drove all the way from QC to Makati for this event where they were talking about the Maharlika Investment Fund a.k.a. Marcos Family Slush Fund. I was early, thinking that I would be able to talk to some people before the program starts.

Sorry, no media allowed, I was told.

Oh wow. This is the first time this organizer banned media. Banned us when they were tackling a very important topic. 🙄

Something fishy going on here.

So I tried to stalk people outside the ballroom, which I had been doing since 2006.

But damn it, there was no place to sit and wait. I’m getting old for this shit. After an hour, I gave up and just went to Greenbelt 5 to The Craft Central to make my trip south worthwhile.

Of course I had to try them.

Meanwhile, my contractor told me that we can’t avoid cutting down the jackfruit tree. It’s getting in the way of the the posts of my stairs.

I don’t know what happened to me but I just slept almost the whole day today. Good thing there was only one story to edit. I have three stories to write but they can wait, except for one that I finished tonight.

Maybe my body was compensating for the uneasy sleep I had during my entire stay in Singapore. Maybe my body is recovering from colds. I still feel groggy right now.

I prepared some viands last night so these can be ready to cook in the following two days. First dish is the marinated porkchop that would become bistek tagalog. The second one was katsudon. I breaded chicken breasts and froze them for frying today.

I wanted to do something with my hands but my brain is still sleepy so I just started an initial sketch. I couldn’t push myself to start painting because if the creative drive is not there, I will end up with horrendous output.

I’ll just wait for the creative bug to bite me tomorrow.

Believe it or not, I’m sleepy again…