I wake up. What time that is depends on what time I sleep or what appointments I have. If I sleep at 3 a.m., which is happening more and more lately, then maybe I will rise at around 9 a.m. If I have an appointment, I set the alarm on my cell phone and always wake up before it rings, like I programmed myself to wake up at 7 a.m. just to make sure I make it to a 9 a.m. appointment.
I go to the bathroom then proceed to the kitchen to brew myself a cup of coffee. I’m in transition. I have given notice: I will be out of my flat by March 15. My new flat is still being fixed. I am between living arrangements. So my coffee is just plain brewed. When I move I will turn it into something my daughter introduced me to — “bullet coffee.†That’s brewed coffee with one tablespoon natural butter and one tablespoon coconut oil that you put in the blender for about two seconds then drink. It actually tastes wonderful. But first I must buy a better coffee brewer than the one I have now. Then I must set up the individual small blender that was a gift from my secretary the last time she visited. I will do both in my new home. Until then — plain brewed coffee.
I watch the Solar channel ignoring the local news mostly but watching Brian Williams broadcasting last night’s American nightly news. I don’t know why I enjoy watching American news and hate watching our news. For one thing I prefer Obama to P-noy. Obama is cuter and smarter. I dislike the Republicans more passionately than I dislike our local politicians. I just look through the local politicians but when I see the American Republicans I shake a fist at them. I live alone, you see. I can do anything I want.
Napoles had a medical examination. So what? There was an earthquake in Batangas Tuesday night. Maybe earthquakes are slowly tiptoeing towards Metro Manila. I think about that for a few seconds. I remember the 1991 strong earthquake, wonder how long it will take for Metro Manila to be rocked that badly again.
I take a shower, get dressed, put on makeup. There are days when I hate doing this, when I go around with a barren face. Nobody notices. I love those relaxed days. I no longer care what people say. I enjoy being myself, doing exactly what I feel like doing when I feel like doing it.
I remember a recent lunch I went to. Ten people. Four of us were once married, but now we’re not married anymore. One of us is widowed. Two in the group of 10 are single. In a way it means that in that group of 10, 60 percent were more or less single. The remaining four were married, one couple for more than 60 years, two for around 40 years though their husbands were not with them. If you looked around the four women who were once married, they joked the most, talked a lot and laughed out loud. The others just didn’t seem as happy or as free. It told me that women who were totally free enjoyed themselves much more.
Then what is marriage for? To have children and stay together making each other miserable even if the children are over 60? That is so sad. I am glad I am this old and will never consider marriage again. It will only make me unhappy. And then maybe I’ll have to make several cups of bullet coffee and argue with a husband over their quality. Forget it. I love living alone and being totally free to experiment with anything.
My days are either busy or idle. I don’t care. But during the day I hardly go to the bathroom to relieve my kidneys. I am always so well-contained. I think it’s my mother’s childhood training. She taught me never to go to public bathrooms, to hold it until I was back home. This is a lesson I apparently learned well and kept to my old age.
At around 9:30 p.m. after playing computer solitaire for one or two hours, immediately before I go to bed, I go to the bathroom. Then I read in bed. At around 11 p.m. I need to go again. Then I turn off the lights and try to sleep but in half-an-hour I have to go again. Now I cannot sleep so I read again and go again a little after 1 a.m. Then finally I fall asleep.
These nighttime forays into the bathroom are what aggravate me most about growing old. But what can one do except adjust to them? They’re my body’s particular neurosis. That’s the biggest disadvantage to growing old. I wish I could reverse my body’s schedule and go a lot during the day and not at all through the night. But I am stuck with these horrible nocturnal habits. Thank God I live alone. I don’t have to worry about waking up somebody or having somebody awaken me.
I guess we learn to be grateful for small things.
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