Let me weep

Ugly Crying: The inner me right now

I’m getting tired of slaving to hold up to that independence and self-reliance expectations from a single woman like me. I want to go back to the time when I wasn’t earning my own money and just be at the mercy of my parents for allowance. Or maybe just to that time when some people would not rely on me too much when it comes to money.

Because fluff it—no one warned me that it’s going to be this hard.

I know people won’t be interested in my moaning about my money troubles, but I just have to let this all out.

See we all experience financial stress at some point or another, except of course if you were lucky enough to be born moneyed then you can skip this and carry on enjoying your charmed life. Only someone who experienced (and is currently experiencing) this would understand what I’m about to say now.

I am forever thankful I have a job that pays me good. I will be on my 14^th year in my current company, and I owe a lot to them when it comes to being able to provide for myself and my family all these years. But sometimes a well-paying job isn’t enough when you have expenses that come in like clockwork.

No one can really say that I’m having these troubles because I have questionable spending habits (anyone who says this deserves a hard smack on the face from me). The thing is, whoever is given the same responsibility to pay so many things would find themselves financially inept with the overwhelming money woes. 

The past few months had been particularly challenging. A large chunk of my salary goes to paying bills. Our electric bills, for instance, is on an all-time high. The very few times I’d remind people at home to take it easy on our electricity use (I mean, I don’t tell them to stop using the AC or the electric fans in this infernal weather, just the other appliances that consumes electricity), somehow, they find my “gentle” reminder hurtful. When the bill comes in and I show it to them—they ignore me. It’s just like them saying I should just shut up and pay it. It’s a good thing my older brother helps me out, as he’s the only one who does, perhaps because he goes through the same thing as we are the only ones working in the household.

But it’s not just the electric bill, there’s still my other obligations like other utilities, groceries, medical (for my maintenance meds), mom’s allowance, house repairs, credit card/cellphone/subscription bills, etc. Thankfully, I don’t get penalized for the loans I took precisely because I manage to pay it all on time (my credit score is divine). It’s just that, my take-home pay— or the money that is left for me after everything’s deducted—frustrates me. It would often leave me scratching my head and ask, “Where did it all go? How was it that I have work but this is the only money left for myself?”. It’s like walking in a tightrope penny-pinching until the next payday, which I feel is somewhat of an injustice for me because after all I am the one earning the money. I don’t even have enough set aside for my savings. God forbid, if something happens to me, I’ll be in deep trouble.  

Lately, I’m not having any of that giddy payday feeling because of the seemingly never-ending cycle of paying everything and being left with so little for myself. Nothing’s funny about looking for ways to stretch all that remains until the next payday. It’s getting to be an ongoing crisis and I don’t know how long this will go on. 

I’m not being selfish, but sometimes I wish I don’t have this many responsibilities in my shoulders; not when I’m alone in life and no one to depend on. Women that are of the same age as me may have bigger worries, but at least most of them has a significant other to help them. I don’t have that. I wish some people will realize this before they demand so much from me. When I think about it now, the same people don’t even thank me. It would make so much difference if they appreciate me at least.

Sometimes I think, had I known that it will be like this for me, I could have had gotten married or had chosen to lived independently. If I were a lot younger, probably that’s something I would do. 

Too bad I’m in too deep. And it’s too late.

Thisclose to a rain dance

Photo by reza shayestehpour on Unsplash

I no longer recall at what stage in my life I started to love the rainy days. All I know is that it’s fairly recent, as I have always associated rain with gloom when I was younger. Back then, it seems that the rain sabotages every plan and every chance I have to go out and have fun. A lot of activities gets cancelled when it rains. And there’s that thing about the gray skies that triggers internal despondency on some people. (Ever wondered why sad music videos had to be shot in the rain?)

But maybe my nouveau love for the rainy days began as I got older when overcast skies and wet grounds no longer send me to emote mode. In the later years, I wasn’t as outgoing as I was, so I’d rather spend my days cooped up at home than go out and bask under the sun’s evil (yes, evil) rays. 

Apparently there’s a word for people who love the rain: Pluviophile. I don’t think I can be considered one because if I’m living in another city like Stockholm or San Francisco, I would choose a sunny day over a rainy day precisely because an average sunny day in these cities are not as bad as ours here in the Philippines. Remember how we all snickered when UK declared a heatwave when the temperature breached 25°C? 

Mga mahinang nilalang. 

A rainy day is a perfect time for me to relax, rest and recharge. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof is particularly soothing for me, and it makes me want to just hit the sack. What most people think is that I like going out because it is what I do every chance I get. What they don’t know is that I only do it to escape the heat gripping us at home. I’m happier when it rains; I have all the excuse to stay home. 

The rain also does wonder in alleviating stress, which is the opposite for me when mercury rises. Nothing stresses me more than moving a little but sweating like a pig.

Summers had become the season I dread the most every year, not only because I incessantly moan about the heat, but it’s also the time of the year that electricity bills shoot up and I couldn’t do anything about it. AC had to be turned on for many hours in a day, as the intense heat can be very risky when we have a senior and kids at home. Electric fans can be likened to dragons spewing fire, so this is really not the time to talk about consuming electricity. 

There’s this joke that you’ll just have to choose what would kill you: a heat stroke or a coronary from the exorbitant electric bill. In the past few months, our electric bill increased by 50%. 

The commute during the hot, humid weather is even worse. The past few days, a 15 to 20-minute commute from our place to the mall, whether by jeepney or taxi, would make me breathe through my mouth under a face mask because the air is particularly heavy. I wasn’t exaggerating, it was that bad. 

I’ve been looking forward to the first rain of May but it was dampened by the announcement of the local weather bureau that we should expect the El Niño phenomenon, which is a period of extreme heat and dry spells. I was hoping it’s a false alarm, but I’m beginning to think that the forecasts were right. See, May is usually the start of the rainy season and yet we barely have experienced real rain. Not even with the threat of “super typhoon” Betty last week, when we didn’t even experience heavy raining here in the Metro when it passed the area of Northern Luzon over the weekend. 

There were dark clouds hanging and a series of loud thunderclaps in the late afternoons for days now but hours later, it’ll only give us light raining—not even enough to cool down the temperature. If for anything, it made nights a swelter. 

Last week, several local news outlets had announced that PAGASA already declared that the rainy season is already here. Then again, they were also quick to say that they are still expecting lower-than-normal rainfall. 

So I’m not sure if the monsoon season can bring respite from the prolonged hot weather we were all experiencing. Another Tropical Depression has entered the Philippine Area of Responsibility (PAR) yesterday, which they named Chedeng, but I’m still not feeling it.  Looking at my computer now, even when it’s mostly cloudy outside, the temperature still registers at 32°C (89.6°F). 

I’m thisclose to doing the rain dance. I’ve had enough of this dry, hot spell. 

Hello there, stranger.

Months flew by with me realizing that I haven’t blogged since January. If it hadn’t been for the yearly notification of my domain expiration this month, I wouldn’t even know it’s been that long.

Honestly, I don’t miss it. I’m too stressed and anxiety-ridden these days to even find the time in my often-mundane day to blog. I am also quite emotional most of the time, as people who follow me on Twitter can notice. I don’t want to post something here on my blog that was solely fueled by strong emotions only to regret it afterwards.

Then again, I also can’t find it my blogger heart to stop for good and let my domain expire so I did pay $17 for the renewal fee.  

To those who care enough to ask, I’m good. A nervous nellie most of the time but clinging to sanity. I don’t know if it was because I’m pushing fifty in a few more years, and there’s that feeling of dread—but I worry about a lot of things to the point of overthinking. I know stressing over things can’t be good, but it’s something that I just can’t help. 

Mommy is still having health issues every so often. One day she’s okay, the next she isn’t feeling well. Quite frankly, most of her bodily discomfort were a direct result of her stubbornness. Like how, a few days ago, I saw her cleaning the inside of the fridge using bleach (don’t even ask me why). Of course, I called her out and said that inhaling bleach is (historically) bad for her.

She scowled, “Wag mo ‘nga akong pakelaman ha!” (Stop meddling and let me be!)

A few days later she got a very bad cough that the doctor had to give her a regimen for pneumonia—mostly strong antibiotics. She felt better in less than a week, thank God, but then we caught her again spraying insecticide inside the house. When my kuya *gently* reminded her that she just went through rounds of antibiotics and that she has just recovered, they got into an argument with her ultimately saying: “Mamatay na kung mamatay.” (If I die, I die.)

Toxic, emotional retorts and sudden outbursts such as that can throw me and my brothers off. I mean, how do you respond to that? 

So even if our chest feels like exploding, we try to manage by avoidance because obviously she resents being told what to do even if it’s being done for her own good. When that happens, we go upstairs and simmer down. Arguing with her is useless and frustrating.

When I’m losing patience, I pray.

When I’m getting frustrated, I pray.

When I get scared, I pray.

When things are getting a bit harder to carry, I pray.

In short, praying keeps me going these days.

 ***

Meanwhile, work is something that I’ll always be thankful for. It isn’t giving me the same amount of tension compared to what’s happening in the household. Thanks to the autonomy/healthy company culture and the freedom that is being given to us we don’t feel pressured. I report for work at 7 AM, clock out at 4 PM. Weekends are golden.

My work also pays me enough for my bills and provided me the joy of being able to afford the little things for me and my family. 

Our company has already given up some of our office floors at the RCBC Plaza, which only means that working from home will be for good. The very few remaining employees who chose to work onsite and was given consideration for the past several months are now being asked to do what’s necessary to start working remotely.

My brother and I have already surrendered to the reality that we will never be office people again, so we are currently taking baby steps to make working from home as comfortable and as stress-free for us as possible. 

At the moment my workstation is situated in a common area at home just right beside our dining area. I can’t tell you how working in a common area of the house can be particularly distressing. I asked my kuya if we could do something in our shared room upstairs so I could instead set my workstation there (which was actually where I was when I was still using my own laptop and not the company-issued desktop). He agreed to give up some of our old cabinets so my table could fit right in.

The only thing that is stopping us from moving there is the unforgiving weather. We have an old non-inverter window-type AC upstairs, and we don’t usually use it because we feel it consumes so much electricity. Our room upstairs turns to a giant microwave in the afternoon, that it’s almost impossible to stay there with only electric fans running. We are waiting for the rainy season to finally come in before I move there, and I think being away from everyone while working can make my every day less nerve-wracking.

Kuya plans to make our shared room like some fortress of solitude, for if there’s anyone who understands the mental strain I’m going through, it’s him. We have given ourselves a timetable: before next summer, a new inverter aircon and accordion door by the stairs should already be installed, sliding ones to replace the jalousie window to let natural light come in, walls painted, etc. It’s kind of our pet project. Maybe working at my favorite spot in our very small house can do wonders for my overall wellbeing.