Simplicity With A Drama Queen

I have been in Chuuk, FSM for the last four months. So far it has been a really humbling experience. Things that I would have avoided doing when I was in the comfort of my parents' home has became part of my regular routine. I have to fend for myself. Before I came here the prospect of fending for myself scared the crap out of me. The gargantuan responsibility of being alone was enough to give me second thoughts of pushing through my plan of getting out of the looming shadows of my family that keeps on trapping my rainbow bright carefree personality. Then i asked myself, "If not now then when will you grow a set of iron balls?". Fast forward and here I am now, four months and counting going a whole lot of homesick for the love of my life, my loving and loyal partner for the past three years, one hundred and eighty days, nineteen hours and thirty five minutes. It is only fitting that i am writing an entry now on the eve of our monthsary.

I always dread of the day when i have to go and wash my clothes, although i do it every two or three weeks. I was never oriented in the art of washing clothes when i was growing up. There were always the helpers to do that for me and now am stuck into doing it on my own. I don't now why I always feel this consternation with the thought of washing my clothes when all I have to do is dump them into this over sized contraption that gyrates continuously for the next 45 minutes. I don't even have to hang and air dry them because across these cantraptions are another rows and rows of similar shaped, again, contraptions but this time are heated that tumbles and tumbles for the next hour and half and poof your clothes come out furiously hot that you don't even need to iron them if you are not that fussy like me. Okay I am fussy most of the time just too lazy to iron my own clothes plus me and the iron are not the best of friends. I would rather wear clothes that are a little bit wrinkly than wear a burnt one with a hole. I bet you will agree with me on that note.

I can't remember the last time i scrubbed the tiles of my bathroom floor. Surely I have not swept and mopped the floor of my apartment for the last two weeks or was it three already? Wait i think more than that maybe a month, o well i can't really remember. My rugs are all over the floor and pet bottles are all over the place.

My living condition may be downright petrifying for an Obsessive Compulsive individual but the freedom is substantially worth it, out of the clutches of my family's shadow. Although most days I get into moments of depression when thoughts of my partner comes to mind. Come to think of it the depression takes most of my time.

Why am I doing this? I often ask myself and then my ego will let itself known and gives a vehement answer.  For freedom you fool! And again I would recount all the drama that is my family. Oh to live a life of a drama queen is exhausting.