Pad Number Two

It's been 52 days.

52 days, 5 countries, 9 cities, one new pad coming to life, and still my baby has not come home.


I can't really grasp the flight of time, but almost a third of the new year has gone by. And I still think it's a new year. Hmm.

The new year, with all due respect, had promised some new excitement to my life. No, wait. Correction: I had promised myself some new excitement this new year.

For a start, I finally made up my mind to get myself out of that sunlight-deprived, fresh air-deprived, roach-infested (okay, I exaggerate, but I am paranoid too), pipe-leaking, sink-congested, drain-clogged, dust-collecting apartment. Nah, the apartment isn't that bad if I could discount all of the above, I've been telling my lazy ass for the longest time. Then, with all the economic crises, job losses and pay freezes happening around me, I gave myself one last motivation: get a cheaper place.

And get a cheaper place, I did. My lazy ass wasn't all out in the flat-hunting, especially when I couldn't usually get off work early and I refused to skip Saturday hoops and I only wanted to lie in bed all of Sundays. All the "cheaper" places I had seen somehow couldn't convince me to get my lazy ass up and leave the sunlight-deprived, fresh air-deprived, roach-infested, pipe-leaking, sink-congested, drain-clogged, dust-collecting apartment. Err... too small. Too noisy. Too faraway. Too small. Not dog-friendly. Not cheap enough. Too small. Too ugly. Can't cook. Not me.

Until I saw it.

You know you see something when even before you can understand why, your heart just starts pumping a little faster and a silly smile creeps up on your face. Pretty much the same for me when I think of someone. That's when I know I'm in love.

And yes, I knew I was in love barely ten minutes after I saw it.

That is "me", that is mine, I decided. The next couple of flats were just to convince me I was already in love. I made quick friends with the tenant - my "new friend Tim". He saved the flat for me and turned away all others while I went back to Singapore to collect ang pows. The day after I returned, I signed for my new love.

Completely bare naked, the flat had only an air-conditioner left behind. I had to build a nest from scratch. But I did my math, and figured this was still a better deal. I had gotten myself something not just "cheaper", but really "much cheaper". Sweet.

The flat is not exactly bigger, but it has a kitchen and it has space. There is only one flat on every floor, and I have the highest one on the fourth - complete with a kick-ass rooftop. It has more windows than I've ever seen anywhere else. I am sunlight- and fresh air-crazy after more than 18 months.

The first thing I decided for my new love: the red wall has to go. I'm perhaps not one for fiery passion.



In the two weeks that followed, I repainted all the walls. I scrubbed down all the walls and floors. I expended cash like never before. I became first-time owner of a bed, a wardrobe, a couch, a shelf, a cabinet, a coffee table, a TV, a fridge, a washing machine, a dehumidifier (my next newfound love) and a blender. I packed and moved my stuff over bit by bit. I fixed up the internet and cable TV and set up new accounts for electricity and water. I realized how many shirts, tees, shoes, stuff, I really have. I realized too how many more I yearn to have so I had to start some wardrobe planning and make some extra space for the future. I put up shower curtains and almost lost both arms. I packed and moved some more. I cleaned the floors over again. I tried to put up my curtains but I failed and cursed and swore. I lost my wallet and got it back. I probably lost a few pounds too.

And then I lost my Piper somewhere in between those two weeks.




Since the big move, I've made a home trip to look for my baby, then a big outing with the office gang to Hua Hin, then a week-long freezing trip to northern China.

And now I'm finally back to reality after three long weeks in the US. I don't think I've slept on my new bed for more than ten days.

For some reason, I wish that one weekend didn't have to end... and I didn't have to come back.