The Domestic Goddess Speaks
After rushing through The Other Bolynn Girl, The Forbidden Kingdom and a 3 hour KTV session with the baby sister, not to mention squeezing a shopping quickie of 15 mins on a Saturday, I’m so ready to be the domestic goddess on Sunday after having more than my fair share of fun.
Because I was 100% willing, the cleaning and neatening for the past 3 hours was not a chore at all. It was expectedly therapeutic, as I turned heartless and torn/threw away most of the things in sight in order to get rid of them at all. I was tired of being a hoarder, and the rainy days I was saving them for never seem to be coming.
While I have believed in the power of organised chaos for the entire of my youthful existence, I do wonder if it’s a sign of maturity or worse, aging, that I’m leaning more towards the ‘declutter to free the mind’ mantra now. Horrors. Then again, I’m by nature claustrophobic. I need my space, and it upsets me not being able to see the floor of my rooms and the table piled with goodness knows what.
Just a breather here before I’m off to tackle my pile of finances, to file, to read, to be reminded. And then there’s my study table, which I swear I might find some dead insects there later when I do major, major cleaning. It has happened before.
It feels good to be domestic and homely, at my own pace and leisure. The question is, can I do this on a permanent basis, regularly and necessarily forgoing all my concert evenings and theatre matinees? Bah.
*
May we be idealistic about love without being pro-active? Must we sign up for match-making activities and really put ourselves out in the market? Have we come to that?!
I would like to live my life to the fullest with the people I’m closest to. Maybe they will get hitched themselves and leave me one by one, maybe we will cling on tightly to one another as life support, and so what. Making friends should come naturally and less induced by a even more artificial than usual environment. I think of it as growing together, growing independently, so that I may be ready for love when it so finds me. I hope my better half is not desperately seeking, such that he settles for rubbish and stops looking for me altogether. Well, I’m sure that could happen, but you know what they say about true love, it always comes back. I’m sorry I can’t make it easier for love (duh, the course of true love never did run smooth, ok) but it will be more rewarding this way.
还是那句话，本姑娘宁缺勿滥。
Because I was 100% willing, the cleaning and neatening for the past 3 hours was not a chore at all. It was expectedly therapeutic, as I turned heartless and torn/threw away most of the things in sight in order to get rid of them at all. I was tired of being a hoarder, and the rainy days I was saving them for never seem to be coming.
While I have believed in the power of organised chaos for the entire of my youthful existence, I do wonder if it’s a sign of maturity or worse, aging, that I’m leaning more towards the ‘declutter to free the mind’ mantra now. Horrors. Then again, I’m by nature claustrophobic. I need my space, and it upsets me not being able to see the floor of my rooms and the table piled with goodness knows what.
Just a breather here before I’m off to tackle my pile of finances, to file, to read, to be reminded. And then there’s my study table, which I swear I might find some dead insects there later when I do major, major cleaning. It has happened before.
It feels good to be domestic and homely, at my own pace and leisure. The question is, can I do this on a permanent basis, regularly and necessarily forgoing all my concert evenings and theatre matinees? Bah.
*
May we be idealistic about love without being pro-active? Must we sign up for match-making activities and really put ourselves out in the market? Have we come to that?!
I would like to live my life to the fullest with the people I’m closest to. Maybe they will get hitched themselves and leave me one by one, maybe we will cling on tightly to one another as life support, and so what. Making friends should come naturally and less induced by a even more artificial than usual environment. I think of it as growing together, growing independently, so that I may be ready for love when it so finds me. I hope my better half is not desperately seeking, such that he settles for rubbish and stops looking for me altogether. Well, I’m sure that could happen, but you know what they say about true love, it always comes back. I’m sorry I can’t make it easier for love (duh, the course of true love never did run smooth, ok) but it will be more rewarding this way.
还是那句话，本姑娘宁缺勿滥。
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