It's My Life

"Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life." ~Mark Twain

Thursday was the second swimming session within a week. Due to the upcoming fasting month for the Muslim pupils, the teacher-in-charge had an almost impossible task of coming up with a swimming schedule for the fourth school term. The result was two swimming lessons within the second week and three more within the ninth week of the school term. Aye, all’s fine with me as long as I had the opportunity to hang out with the friends I had made throughout the parent volunteering duties; other parents and teachers as well. And who’d had known that by offering my services to the school I’d gotten a few most valuable friends in return?

Despite my difficulty to wake up in the early dawn and my constant switching-off of my body and mental clock, I was reluctant to miss any of the morning swimming duties. The company was relaxing and sometimes “informative”. It was time well-spent instead of tossing in my blanket which I would have done if I were to stay at home.

I reached home before noon to wash the wet towels and swimming suits of the kids and did some of the chores before plunking down in front of my laptop again to catch up with my soul mate while the washing machine churned in the background. This is another thing that had been keeping me sane for the past few years.

After disconnecting and hanging the tubful of clothes out to dry, I plopped down onto the bed with my big Sherlock Holme’s book. I had barely turned a few pages when my lids became heavy as lead. Hence, I indulged myself to a few minutes of shuteye before proceeding to the afternoon swimming duty.

As I fetched the kids from the school gate after school dismissed, I resisted the urge to bring them to McDonald’s for dinner again. I had not been cooking for some time and my resource was running low. Not to mention that the kids’ father seemed to have encountered “problems” yet again to send back relieving funds.

The kids had to settle for Nasi Lemak for dinner despite their futile protests.

Do not over-estimate my ability to whip up a delicacy such as this. My version of Nasi Lemak aka Coconut Rice was the simplest version I could come out with. I simply washed the usual white rice in the pot from the rice cooker, added a small packet of ready-made coconut gravy into the rice, filled water up to the usual level, added a pinch of salt, used a bunch of knotted pandan leaves to stir the content (to save washing another spoon), threw the pandan leaves into the mixture and replace the pot into the rice cooker. The rice cooker would do the rest of the job while I prepared eggs, cucumbers and other deep-fried stuffs to compliment the meal.

That settled their meal but the dishes filling up the sink was another problem.

I washed the dishes, did the laundry and attempted a quick revision with Mervin and Angel. Then I hanged the new load of clothes.

The heap of clothes lying on my bed was the newest problem created.

I approached the mountain prudently, nearing it with eyes in slits, gathered it up with my powerful grasp and dumped it onto my chair.

Without hesitation, I snuggled into the blanket next to Angel. When the slightest hint of guilt tugged at my heart, I slammed it hard with the big Sherlock Holmes book and filled my mind with the enthralling case of the famous detective before lulling into deep and satisfied slumber.