Saturday, 14


How are you today? It’s mild raining in my place with thunder clapping in background. My head hurt when I cough and I had been consuming asthma medicine, paracetamol, and panadol. They take turns, off course. I drink and pee a lot, but the shivering lingers. Even so, I managed to continue watching some dramas (“Joy of Life” eps 14-15–what an amazing drama; “To Get Her”—male actor looks stupid but so narcistic, the female lead so cute like a doll, it’s subbed for 6 episodes; “Crocodile and Plover Bird, why do they always assign man as genius and woman as idiot who overcome things by hardworking? Take a turn, please; then Liu Tao’s depressing wife in “Hope All is Well With Us”). What??? So many? Are you sure you’re sick? I am. I even wear knitted clothes to warm.

The last drama had me thinking. Henry Manaping surveyed 3.300 of his twitter followers of what makes them worry. Single people had their worries, just like the married ones. Being parents means people have to take care of their significant others, most likely the children because they can’t survive by their own. Giving them education is parents job, as well as the source of their worry. You see, the rising number of education fee is scary. I had parents verbally mentioned their hardworking motive because they need to gather money for the children’s school. For that, they’re willing to work extra hours, making extra trips, designing not-so-important jobs which cost timely but produce money. Being parents are hard.



Even before being parents, married people are already in distressed. My colleague, who just got married at the beginning of this year looks gloomier than before. We’re not close, but we often catch each other at praying room. It’s more than twice she touch my veil and praising my clothes. Last time she asked “it must be expensive, right?”

I stunned.


I actually believe the concept of expensive is really relative. It relates to the number of money you have on your wallet, it relates to how much fondness you grow for the stuff you want to buy, it relates to practicality of using it, and for me it relates to how similar the color to the other clothes I’m going to wear with it (If I’m using maroon blouse, then the veil shouldn’t be red velvet).

If I answered, “well, not that expensive,” while it’s only sold at premium shop, I will sound arrogant, right? (Not that I care, though). If I said, “It is,” it would be lying because I can afford it and I’m do not consider myself rich.

Lucky before I decided to say anything, she continued, “it’s not easy for me to spend money (now that I’m married).” I nod. I understand. Contrast to the old people’s believe that marriage opens ones’ fortune, the married people have to deal with additional expenses. The commitment also bind them to prevent using their money without consulting each other (or mostly wife consulting husband). So, sometimes, they have the money but they can’t freely use it. Well, it’s good to save for emergency, right? But, if that saving things make you unhappy, what’s the point?

I come to realize so many of use make money our God. Money control how we spend it. Money control how we work for it. It’s not a healthy way to live. I want to take control of my money. It should be use to my happiness, instead of using me. I don’t want to work my ass to the point of deteriorating my health and my conscience just to get money. And I want to fulfill my needs and my desire with the money I have. Pressing my desire will only leads to frustration. I love my life too much  that I don't want to fall into despair.

Gosh, I feel the need to check my mental health now. Let’s do a depression test! Here’s what I got:

Seems like everything under control. Hope you’re doing fine, too.