A pointless recap of the rest of my day

I don't have all the time in the world like I used to, so I've decided to budget my time.

Now that I have to work from 4 in the morning (and the tears are pouring - ok) until just before one in the afternoon, I've got to make wise use of the sunny afternoons that have suddenly landed in my lap.

I thought of pursuing my home decor/arts and crafts/DIY anything hobby, but that's a bit too time-consuming to start with.

Baby steps, I said to myself.

And those baby steps led me to the supermarket, where I bought a bajillion ingredients for the Valentine meal I am making tomorrow evening.

And not only that, I also baked cookies. Yup, I did an inventory of everything we had in our kitchen cupboards and discovered that I could make different kinds of cookies, and give and take a few provisions, even cakes. I already made trifle last weekend, but that wasn't really as satisfying as baking and in the process giving the apartment a warm vanilla aroma.

I have not tasted the oatmeal cookies I made. They're sat on the kitchen counter cooling and being evilly enticing.

Which leads me to another thing I must do before the sun sets and my eyes and brain shut down for the day - work out. Yup, I will aim to do that in a few minutes.

Not a bad day, considering I was dreading morning shifts.

Yup, I lived there.

This article on Huffington Post called Our Worst Apartment Stories  reminds me of my creepy, gross and depressing experiences in the different places I lived growing up and shortly after moving to Dubai.

Join me as I recall some of them.

No water. In the 90's, it wasn't uncommon for some parts of Manila to cease having running water several days a week. So on the days that we had it, we would save it in big drums to use for later. But it sometimes ran out, and so I was forced to brush my teeth using what was left of the brownish water in bottom of the industrial-style drums that had specks of unknown particles in it. No water also meant no flush, and I am going to stop right here.

Dead rats. I'm not kidding. When we lived in my father's grandparents' house, I saw a dead rat behind our refrigerator several times. One time I saw two. It was one of the nastiest memories from my childhood, and the thought of those fat, filthy rat carcasses still makes me shiver. My mother said that there was a hole in our wall that led all of them from the sewers to our room. We never found the hole, but we shortly moved out of that hellhole.

Illegal substances. I didn't know it then, but over the years I realized that the same house must have had traces of drugs everywhere. I remember seeing pieces of foil in one of the cupboards and wondering how our table lamp got deformed and developed solid bubbles, as if someone was trying to mold them into another shape. I remember seeing extra bottles of "salt" "MSG" and not thinking anything of it. Okay.

Fishy mornings. In Dubai, I once rented a room in a nice villa. For some reason the aircon was getting air from the kitchen. Too bad my housemates always had fish and vinegar for breakfast. Don't get me wrong, I love eating them, but I didn't appreciate their smell permeating the aircon vents and stinking up my mornings, not to mention my duvet, pillows and every single thing in my room. It was probably for the best when I got kicked out.

Dirty landlord. I moved into an apartment with my friends and within days we knew that our stay there would be a nightmare. Our landlord was a slob. She didn't wash her dishes for days and left Coke and curry stains on the floor. Worse, in the evenings, she cuddled up with her boyfriend in the front room, trapping us in our windowless room. We couldn't go out for a cigarette.  So we lit up in the bathroom, where the tiny exhaust fan did nothing to get rid of the smoke.

Fresh air, extra space to grow plants, dancing in the front room and frying an egg whenever the hell I want to. These are the simple things I really appreciate and value now. That's probably why I've just started to learn interior design and how to use the oven. Where I used to live, my only goal was not to puke.