Huff. *wipes sweat off forehead*
Did my laundry. Washed some of them by hand. Ironed some shirts. Washed my socks. Swept the floor, kinda. Washed the dishes. Wiped the tables. Sorted out the messy dining-table problem. Cleared the fridge together with
Andrew. Drank some coffee. Finished off the juice. Got fucked up over that silly fridge leak. Had some severe migraine. Cooked some deep-fried eggs. And finally got the chance to clean my room this morning.
Quite an achievement, huh? *sighs*
It's funny when I think about it, really. How I
should and must do everything by myself now that I'm living in my new-and-improved world of
semi-independent universe.
Back home, when I needed some things to be done or fixed or anything else for that matter, all I gotta do was
holler, and
a helping hand would always be working alongside my own force to deal with whatever was up. Now, living here
down under has given me a
totally new point-of-view.
And, well, doing all those tiresome household stuff reminds me of
someone, to be honest. That certain helping hand I just briefly mentioned, who was always there whenever I needed her.
Please welcome my mighty house-maid,
Mbak Asih.
She came to the family when I was a zero-ager.
Eleven months old, to be exact. And she had been there ever since, which leaves her with nearly
eighteen years of perfect existence.
I remember
having mentioned her once in my blog the other day, about a year ago. And, well, my
gratitude still remains the same.
Stay-at-home-doing-stuff moments like these remind me of her so much. Of those times when I joined her in the kitchen, cooking stuff and horsing around, laughing about unimportant stuff and cried out together whenever something popped up in the frying pans. I used to
hug her on a daily basis, and she always used to
smile everytime I went home from school, asking me about my day and hoping she could do something that could make me feel better after school. Usually she would cook my dinner early, or I would then raid the kitchen and help her with stuff. She was like my second mom, and I loved her dearly.
A few days before, and even until the morning of my departure to
Melbourne, she kept
bursting into tears whenever I came around. When I asked her why, she confessed that
she could not imagine the house without my presence, saying that whenever I wasn't in the house, it got awfully, painfully quiet. It
broke my heart to see her crying, you know, since she was, had been, and always is
a strong woman to me, and I couldn't imagine continuing my life without her by my side just as much as she couldn't. She even hugged me really tight just minutes before I got in the car, and I cried together with her. *sighs*
Gawd, I miss her so much.
I took a chance and
called her some few days back, and she answered the phone in the first ring. Guess what, she
cried again just listening to my voice, expressing how touched she was by
the thought that I still remembered her. Hell, how on earth could I forget about you, Mbak? *sniffs*
She's part of the family. I miss her just as much as I miss my
Dad and Mom.
Oh well. Maybe I should just stop here before I start crying like a wuss. *winks*
Here she is. Should we all
stand up and give her a round of applause?
*claps furiously*
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Anyway.
Happy weekend, guys. *hugs*
Ex-IPEKAHIGH reunion BBQ tomorrow yay! =)