Pondering on the chains that bind

Last night, I finally got myself to do some cleaning around the house. Apparently, there are some chores which I need to take care of. The first would probably be re-soling my brown shoes. I don't have a lot of shoes, so this should be my first priority. Then there's the matter of having my wristwatch fixed. The rubber band that holds the strap in place was broken. I've tried fixing it with some super glue but 10 minutes later it snapped. The best solution seems to be replacing the whole strap. Then there's my empty fridge, time to do the groceries.

As I listed down the chores that I'm to do for the weekend, I suddenly missed home. The home where I grew up in, with my parents and my bratty sisters. Time was that I'd simply (matter-of-factly even) just mention that my shoes needed mending and when I came back from wherever it was that I went to my shoes were fixed as if by magic. That goes for the shirts that needed sewing and almost every other little detail that needed working on. I remember just dunking my shirts and pants in the wash bin and they re-appeared a couple of days later in my closet, ready for me to wear to school once again.

Indeed, independence has its downsides.

In the first place, why did I even seek this so-called freedom out? Obviously, the inconvenience that it has brought to my once carefree lifestyle has tied me down and given me less time to do other things that I find more interesting. Now instead of waking up really late on weekends, I'd have to get up to do some laundry or get something fixed at the repair shop. Even the ultimate symbol of my freedom, which is the car, has suddenly become the proverbial ball and chain. Spending hours reading magazines while having the car serviced on Saturdays could have been better spent on the couch while browsing through whatever is on the television. Don't even get me started about the washing and waxing bit.

About two weeks ago, a friend of mine remarked that each time she asked me what I was doing, I would almost always reply that I was doing the laundry. I didn't think much of it back then but the thought lingered like a bad omen.

I've thought about some counter-measures to these time-consuming errands in the past but have never bothered following up on any of them. Laundromats, getting a maid on weekends, buying pre-prepared food and of course, going back to the old folks place, but none stuck. Almost all of them would somehow belie the so-called independence that I promised myself. Yeah yeah...

*****

As an afterthought, I tried to remember if this was the life that I thought I would have upon deciding to go my own ways. Come to think of it, I really had no idea what was in store. No one told me that budgeting was a big part of independence, or that it cost a lot of money to keep the fridge stocked. In fact, how the heck did I even imagine living life without a refrigerator?

Maybe if I had lived in a dorm back in college it would've cushioned the reality that I initially faced. I admit, I did live a sort of sheltered life. I didn't even do the dishes nor clean my room.

To answer my question, nope, this isn't what I thought my life would be. It's even better.