Chilly Summer

"So do you have a family?"

?????

"I mean, are you moving over with your family? I mean, do you have a husband, or a boyfriend?"

Oh. Duh. Check-out.


Not a rather easy third day at work. As I start to realize my floating device is faulty with a tiny hole somewhere and I am instead getting thrown deeper and further away into the deep blue ocean. And no one would bother saving me because the lifeboat is only that big for say, hmm, maybe the rest of my teammates.

I can't really complain. I can't say anything about the mess nor the mess. Because I had seen it coming. Especially because I had seen it years before. Just that I had not been the one to have to fix it before. Though now, it's my job to.

I had always been an 'unwanted' child. But I grew up fine. I am just being adopted into another new family as the 'unwanted' child again. So I should be fine.

I should know how to deal with this.

I am in fact beginning to adore this 'unwanted' child syndrome. There I am, always part of the family dinners and outings, all the big brothers all laughing and joking with me. But no one really cares how I am doing.

So it's good. No one fusses when I sneeze, cos I hate that sort of attention. No one breathes down my neck, scrutinizes my every single move, no one stops me from making any one step beyond my realm. It's great. I can run around, bare-footed, exploring the new world, venturing into unchartered territories, making up crazy ideas and putting them into plans. So long as I bring food home to the family on that very tiny little platter. And so long as I don't give trouble to the big brothers.

First thing though, I have to sort out the messy little room I've been suddenly thrown into. Before I can step outside to all the fun.

Dammit.


Retail therapy works.

Especially when you're busy picking out all the baby Gaps on the sale rack. Because when you're doing that, you only have all your little ones in your mind and it is such thoughts that warm your heart up and make you wonder, "Things aren't really that bad, are they?"

And especially because when you're doing that right in front of the sale rack, you get all excited and sweaty, running complicated math calculations in your mind - "$4.99? $6.99? $4.99 x 2? $7.99 x 2 x 2?..." You really don't have much more space left in your brains for anything else more complicated than that.

Before you know it, you have enough to set up a weekend flea market store.

Yes, things just don't seem that bad during a retail therapy session.