I’d be a great cook. Here's the scenario. I have a few friends over in my apartment for a semi-regular movie night. While they're poring over a movie, I'd be in my little kitchen cooking up something delicious that they'd all be raving about once they've tasted the first bite. Beyond the semi-regular movie night, I'd be cooking meals for myself and for anyone who visits me and I would love it. I'd cook bacon and eggs and French toast for breakfast, and learn how to make lasagna (my childhood favorite) and sinigang and kare-kare, and practice baking cookies and brownies and pies for dessert. I'd have a growing collection of recipes and though it would be a struggle to learn how to cook by myself, I'd be surprised and delighted to find that I am actually succeeding. But if that doesn't happen, I could always live on instant pancit canton and Ramen noodles. Oh, and Ma Ling.
My dinner guests will be like Dora's backpack.
Omnomnomnomnom. Delicioso!
I'd sit in the living room with utility bills and a calculator. Because I'm not good at math, I'll probably be spending an hour or two of my weekend figuring out how to adjust my budget to accommodate the rent, food, electricity, water, internet, and all kinds of bills. I'd also contemplate on getting a part-time job so I could afford to buy stuff that I want, like shoes or the occasional electronic device and plane tickets.
I would definitely be making emergency runs to the grocery because I keep forgetting to keep track of the food in the fridge. Or the toilet paper. Or shampoo when shampoo bubbles just won't do (putting water in the bottle more than twice will only yield slightly soapy water, I know that for a fact!) and other important items in a home that one absolutely cannot live without. These grocery runs will happen regularly because I have yet to master the art of inventory.
I'd be scared out of my wits due to the fact that I am living alone. There will be nights when I will suddenly realize that I am a sitting duck, completely vulnerable to dangers both internal and external. I will worry about robbers, rapists, murderers, swindlers, ghosts, bangungot, accidents, and other situations that cannot be dealt with alone. What if I choke on my own deliciously baked lasagna/pancit canton? Can you do a Heimlich maneuver on yourself? To somehow make me feel like I've found a remedy to this problem, I'd probably buy myself a cute puppy to act as my playmate/companion/guard puppy.
Hello, emo puppy. Would you like to live with me?
I'd prefer the apartment to be like the homes of the Koreans I see on TV, where everything is near the floor which, more often than not, is spic and span. I'd keep a tiny broom and dustpan handy to keep my space as tidy as I can. Wait, who am I kidding here? I live in creative chaos. Rewind. I'd keep a tiny broom and dustpan handy so I can keep the space from being too...unruly. I'd also have a desk where my laptop and all other hobby things are stationed. The closet, however, is an entirely different story.
I'd ask someone carry a spare key on their person at all times in case of emergencies. Someone I know who would be there if I found myself locked out of my own place. Probably my sister because it's impossible for me not to even consider her. If I had a boyfriend, I'd probably ask him to do that, too. The bottom line is that there will be times when I will be locked out of my own home even though I know that that's a stupid thing to do. I need people to look beyond the stupidity and just help me out when I need it.
I'd keep beer in the fridge. You never know when you'll need 'em, really. In good times or in bad, there's always a reason to chug down a chilly can of beer. YES.
Golden gift from God! Get in my belly!
I'd probably walk around in my underwear. Because I can. I don't need to explain myself further. My place, my rules. Walang basagan ng trip, k?
I'd dream about the things I’d decorate my place with. There are already pictures of bookcases, chairs, utensils, hammocks, and desks that I've reblogged in my Tumblr account for future reference. At the rate I'm going, my apartment will probably be filled with objects and furniture that are unique and interesting on their own but have absolutely nothing to do with each other. I imagine that it will be an eclectic mix of cute little trinkets and I'd be perfectly happy with them.
I'd be sad and miss the feeling of being comfortable at home where everything is free and everyone is familiar. But I will remember that there is a different kind of free that I yearn for and that will make me feel better until the next time I miss everything all over again.
Every family is a little messed up in one way or another.
But they're still family.
All of the things I mentioned are rather...idealistic, so I don't really expect that living on my own will turn out the way I'd just described it. I probably sound like a teenager, don't I? Gushing about living on my own when some people would much rather live with their families. Most people probably think that I don't need to live away from home to be able to do some of the things I just described. And they're right, I don't have to. I guess the defining factor between doing these things at home and away from home is that I'd be dealing with everything by myself, and that I have no choice but to deal with things by myself. That thought alone is daunting, especially for a bunso like me who's always had kuyas and an ate to call when things got tough. But there's no harm in imagining a life where I'm self sufficient and strong, right? There's really no harm in day dreaming.
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