Lost weight. Lost 4 kgs (or roughly 8.81 lbs), especially during the first two full weeks of the month. Doesn't make me happy, anyhow. If I lost weight either because of dieting or working out, then that's fine. But I lost weight because of sadness. Yep. Sadness has a way of 'eating' me. And why am I sad? Well, oh, well... read entry #7.
At 33, my nocturnal asthma has advanced into a strike-anywhere, strike-anytime thing. In other words, it’s a full-blown asthma. Sadness. It used to be occasional attacks, starting with hacking coughs and deep, feline-sounding wheezes that sometimes make me wonder if I’ve really swallowed a cat. And now this full-blown asthma, according to my doctor, can attack anytime and anywhere. Again, according to him, it is caused by various allergens like mites, dust, smoke, and pollen. And on the day I had the most severe asthma attack, I thought I was going to die. The hacking coughs and the wheezing just wouldn’t stop, making it very difficult for me to breathe. I was crying and coughing and wheezing all at the same time. After spending half an hour at an hospital ER for a nebulization, I felt a bit better. And now I am carrying a small turbohaler with me wherever I go. Might as well wear an asthma-alert bracelet. Awww.
On a dark, chilly night, when the sky was adorned by stars, and while standing on a bridge watching cars and people passing by, someone kissed me so sweetly, so deeply, so passionately…
Ah, the memory of that sweet kiss…
On that same cold, chilly night, I got drunk as a skunk on Emperador Brandy. Ha. How brave. How mighty. How… foolish? After gulping six (or is it seven?) bottles of pure, unadulterated, ice-less San Miguel Beer Pale Pilsen, I was on top of the world! Meaning: I could still stand from where I was seated (a good measure of my alcohol tolerance); I could still walk without the drunk-stagger; AND I could still drink s’more. And so I made yabang to my drinking buddies and said, yes, the mighty me could definitely take s’more shots of the golden drink called Emperador. Wahehe. After the nth shot, I could not even wear my eyeglasses. Fuck.
Oh, but did I say I have already consumed half a bottle of Blackberry Merlot before the beer? Ahaha. How lethal can that be? Good God.
Let go of my Nokia N70. For a reason that I do not want to divulge here. So, so, so sad…
In the middle of this month, I became the rightful tenant of Apartment No. 1 somewhere out there in the middle of a quiet neighborhood in Bay, Laguna. It may appear funny to some, irritating to others, that I spent half a day choosing the light bulbs and door knobs for my flat (I’d like to call it a flat). And another half a day buying cleaning aids and basic stuff (clothes hangers, hampers, pail, dippers, basins, soap dishes, dustpan, sweepers, etc.). The meticulous me wanted everything in blue, but then again, I know I can never have everything I want in this lifetime. Ahehe. And so I settled for white whenever an item is unavailable in blue. *Sigh.*
Spent a day moving my stuff from my previous house to my new flat. (Spent entire nights for a week packing all those stuff!!!) Bought new stuff too – bed, dining table, chairs, closets, wall clock, etc. Don’t know where all my money came from for all these things. Wahaha. What is more amazing is the realization that I am capable of doing a lot of things.
Well, now, at least I can:
- run errands for myself, e.g., pay utility bills, apply for cable connection, etc. (easy pa naman ya-an)
- clean a house (yes, that’s a fact).
- make my own bed (used to do it before and so it’s not an earth-shaking fact anymore).
- sort, wash, hang, dry, and iron my own clothes (waaahhh!!! my hands are now so rough… *sigh*).
- buy and cook my own food (hmmm…).
- wake up early in the morning and make my own breakfast (makes me miss Lily so terribly).
- take care of my own garbage (does this convince anyone now how domesticated I have become?).
- wash my own toilet and bath (?!@#%$&*!!!!! wtf!!! now this is an earth-shaking fact).
Ah, the ills of living alone.
Also, in the middle of this God-forsaken month, Lily, my Lily, left for the US of A. AGAIN.
Now, need I say anything more?