My Kind of Monotonous
Day 112.
I spent the past few days searching for my societal identity.
Well, that's just my obnoxious way of saying that I've been trying my very best to get a tax identification number (TIN) and a social security number. I really don't get what those are for but my mom says I would need them for my adult life. I wanted to laugh but chose not to since the joke's really on my mom for not realizing that her eldest daughter is nowhere near being an adult. Figuratively.
And so I gave up trying to get myself a TIN and SS number since I really don't need it for my next occupation in mind - being a full-fledged member of the bum squad. My mom would definitely not be happy about that but I'm sure she'll get used to it once I make dough out of it. I'm not really considering becoming a real pain in my mom's patella by being the big, good-for-nothing, unemployed daughter. I have plans of making money while staying in our mansion, away from the buzz of the busy sidewalks where bad guys lurked and waited for their healthy, delicious prey. And I do believe that my plan is going to work. I can bet my life on it.
My life has been the way I wanted it lately. This is the kind of monotonous that I like because somehow, someway, there's variety in everyday that I wake up and worry about nothing. Although it's kind of frustrating not having anything to do at times, I still love it considering I have a whole shelf of unread books I've been hoarding for the past year. I've already finished reading one and unless my laptop stops sucking, I guess I'll just read the rest of my unread literary investments.
My mom pretty much turned our home into a madhouse last night by inviting her friends over for a weekend videoke party. It was actually supposed to be a bonding night for her and us her kids together with her suitor who is a big deal in the Philippine business and political industry. I'm just happy my mom finally managed to get a good catch out of the whole pool of suitors composed of men threatening to smear our pleasant genetic pool with ridiculously stupid aspirations. I've met him all right, our potential stepfather. He's a very nice man, intelligent and a visionary - three things that define our biological father. He actually reminds me of my dad. It was like he was actually sent by God to fill in the vacant space in our family. I'm happy for my mom. She finally got her prayers answered.
And speaking of prayers, God seems to have not gotten around mine yet. Well, it's not like I'm actually praying for a prince charming on a white horse to come by my castle and pull me out of my misery modernly called singleness considering that I don't really pray in the very essence of the word. I don't know. Maybe I'm just panic-stricken in the very essence of the word since I'm now the only single person in our house. On the other hand, I really can't care less. Besides, I've somehow forgotten how it is to be in a relationship. Getting my ass into one right now would probably just ruin everything for me and for the person who dared to make me his girlfriend. I choose not to worry. If there's someone in this world who has the impeccable timing, it's God so I'll just relax and go with the flow. I trust in His time.
I guess I gotta get going now. I can hear the PBB sounds from our television. It's now time for me to shut myself up in my bunker to escape these PBB teens' pathetic mendicancy for attention.
Godspeed y'all!
I spent the past few days searching for my societal identity.
Well, that's just my obnoxious way of saying that I've been trying my very best to get a tax identification number (TIN) and a social security number. I really don't get what those are for but my mom says I would need them for my adult life. I wanted to laugh but chose not to since the joke's really on my mom for not realizing that her eldest daughter is nowhere near being an adult. Figuratively.
And so I gave up trying to get myself a TIN and SS number since I really don't need it for my next occupation in mind - being a full-fledged member of the bum squad. My mom would definitely not be happy about that but I'm sure she'll get used to it once I make dough out of it. I'm not really considering becoming a real pain in my mom's patella by being the big, good-for-nothing, unemployed daughter. I have plans of making money while staying in our mansion, away from the buzz of the busy sidewalks where bad guys lurked and waited for their healthy, delicious prey. And I do believe that my plan is going to work. I can bet my life on it.
My life has been the way I wanted it lately. This is the kind of monotonous that I like because somehow, someway, there's variety in everyday that I wake up and worry about nothing. Although it's kind of frustrating not having anything to do at times, I still love it considering I have a whole shelf of unread books I've been hoarding for the past year. I've already finished reading one and unless my laptop stops sucking, I guess I'll just read the rest of my unread literary investments.
My mom pretty much turned our home into a madhouse last night by inviting her friends over for a weekend videoke party. It was actually supposed to be a bonding night for her and us her kids together with her suitor who is a big deal in the Philippine business and political industry. I'm just happy my mom finally managed to get a good catch out of the whole pool of suitors composed of men threatening to smear our pleasant genetic pool with ridiculously stupid aspirations. I've met him all right, our potential stepfather. He's a very nice man, intelligent and a visionary - three things that define our biological father. He actually reminds me of my dad. It was like he was actually sent by God to fill in the vacant space in our family. I'm happy for my mom. She finally got her prayers answered.
And speaking of prayers, God seems to have not gotten around mine yet. Well, it's not like I'm actually praying for a prince charming on a white horse to come by my castle and pull me out of my misery modernly called singleness considering that I don't really pray in the very essence of the word. I don't know. Maybe I'm just panic-stricken in the very essence of the word since I'm now the only single person in our house. On the other hand, I really can't care less. Besides, I've somehow forgotten how it is to be in a relationship. Getting my ass into one right now would probably just ruin everything for me and for the person who dared to make me his girlfriend. I choose not to worry. If there's someone in this world who has the impeccable timing, it's God so I'll just relax and go with the flow. I trust in His time.
I guess I gotta get going now. I can hear the PBB sounds from our television. It's now time for me to shut myself up in my bunker to escape these PBB teens' pathetic mendicancy for attention.
Godspeed y'all!
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