One of the amazing pretexts of independence is self-exploration. Sometimes you just have to learn things on your own and discover how good or bad you are at certain things. But it’s only amazing if the spirit is as willing as the flesh.
Going home to an empty dinner table after a day’s work is a common scenario. Cooking for myself is easy. Every ingredient that I toss in just seems right, every procedure perfect. I can cut the vegetables however I prefer, be it julienned, diced or simply halved, no matter if such vegetables are not meant to be cut that way. But cooking for someone else can be far more exhausting than the 9-hour job itself. Just like tonight. Is it the right amount of garlic? Will they like how I marinated the chicken in calamansi (a smaller local version of lemon) and soya sauce? Does it look appetizing enough? This is probably the reason why I pat myself on the back every time my housemates don’t notice anything strange about the food. I’m so glad that my cooking skills now merit a remark succinctly put as edible. Read: human-friendly.
I am reminded of how my former Spanish language instructor taught the phrase Mas o Menos, which literally means “more or less,” referring to something that is just fine or good enough. I like the way she casually enunciates the slithering “s” with that essential gush of air in between the two front teeth. I studied the language for the same reason that I got motivated to learn how to cook: for my resumé self-enrichment.
No, I do not maintain a list of 100 things to do before I die. Aside from the fact that I find that quite self-indulgent, failure to accomplish certain tasks might only lead to unnecessary self-deprecation. But trying to learn things as your viscera dictate, on the other hand, fuels you with a certain energy that is fulfilling in itself. Sometimes I allow myself to be surprised by circumstances all too often that I do not get the desired outcome. I guess that is part of the learning process. Striving to achieve that balance of planning and letting things be is something that I am constantly figuring out.
Nanay rushed to the kitchen to check on my progress. She took an aluminum ladle and tasted the sauce straight from the wok. “Add a little more vinegar,” she said, “Then simmer for about 5 more minutes and then you’re done.” The queen of the kitchen has spoken and her verdict almost made me chuckle out of relief. I am just hoping that when she said that I’m “done” she meant “done with the task” and not “done with my dear life.” Over. Finished. Kaput!
As I was wondering what’s for dessert, our pseudo-cooking lesson 101 was slightly interrupted by Ray who was smoking by the window. “You must watch out later for the pair of teens making out over there,” pointing towards the opposite block’s brightly lit 6th floor staircase. “They do it past midnight,” Ray revealed as if he’s a regular “moviegoer”. Indeed, anybody can easily be spotted in that column especially amidst the dark surroundings. Two nights later, I chanced upon the suspects seated together on the stairs. Despite the light rain, everything was clear from my vantage point save for their faces. They cuddle and huddle as I fill my glass with cold water from the fridge. But after 5 minutes of inaction on their part and perversion on mine, I decided to go back to sleep. So much for exploration.
It’s been raining in the wee hours of the morning for the past week and I prefer to slumber in indifference under the sheets. It is during these times that I wish someone else would take back my laundry away from the open drying area. The cold air-conditoned room temperature only worsens this laziness to which I easily give in. I am realizing how inspiring it is to start a chore yet very challenging and inconvenient to commit to it. In the mornings I couldn’t anymore just leave my empty mug of milk in the sink no matter how late I am for work. Nor could I ask my clothes to iron themselves out. If only I could only make the frozen meat instantly thaw every time I get back home. Or teach the plates to clean themselves up after every meal. That would be fantastic. The advent of technology doesn’t help much either. And I don’t even want to mention cleaning the bathroom. Ugh!
In bed, I usually end up snoozing my alarm clock more than necessary nowadays. I glance at the time on my cellphone and see 8:00am. I couldn’t accept how every second that I close my eyes thereafter translates to 10 minutes or so. Contrary to when I’m at work where what seems to be minutes of staring blankly at the window is actually just a few seconds of idleness.
I guess there are simply good days and not-so-good days. Pay days are always good days even if they only come once a month. It is a source of sheer joy for a lot of reasons. To pay the bills, the rent, the groceries, and what-nots. It is pathetic to imagine how someone so single as myself whines about the attributes of being independent, when George who supports his wife and their child Angelita, as well as their parents Nanay & Tatay, seem all too cool about everything in life. I am tempted to raise my hand, visualize a bar staff and order, “I am having whatever he’s having!”
Perhaps Ellen’s naughty adage “When life throws you lemons, make a lemonade” applies here. I’ll just have to make the most of every situation that comes my way and learn from them. And I guess knowing how to properly slice a calamansi is not a bad start.
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