Me, the Melancholic (but in a positive way)
For the past few days, I've been doing the things which I've never had the time, the energy (and partly, the money) to do before. Thanks to this two-week academic vacation, my plans of doing the things which really make me happy are finally cropping up: unlimited sleep, sessions with my strings, movie marathons, whole-day hang-outs with friends, reading books aside from Campbell and Chang, and of course, cleaning our house.
Undeniably, I love cleaning the house -- and a general cleaning at that. As I have mentioned, it is one of the simple things which make me exceptionally pleased. At home during my spare time, I do most of the general tidying from the artsy foyer to the grubby toilet without a hint of kaartehan. *bow* I dust and sweep and scrub the place ala-Cinderella in one uniform direction (learned from my mom). After which, I redecorate our home's interior with anything that tickles my creative eye.
Perhaps it is out of my repugnance for dirty and disorganized surroundings that I developed this ardor for cleaning. Hahaha! With the melancholic temperament* that I'm born with, I always want to see things in their proper order -- neatly labeled in their proper bottles, boxes, or shelves. In fact, I have my own closet arranged in an oh-so-organized manner. Tops of the same color go together (arranged from the lightest to the darkest hue), and so with the pants and skirts. Then I have my pang-bahay meticulously folded and piled up gently so as not to disarrange the other clothing. As for the undergarments and socks, I have them all settled in an empty fish bowl inside my closet, for easy track down and added decorative accent. You bet, my sister found the fish bowl bizarre, but why bother? Atleast it gives my closet a more welcoming appearance.
Going back to cleaning, it is indeed one activity which allows me to become practically myself. Wearing my most rugged outfit and unkempt hair, I am able to move around freely, without considering the hassle of trying to look pleasant for everyone. Because nobody watches me scour the bathroom tiles and the toilet seats, there is no need to be overly prim and proper and decent-looking. In there, I could act as rowdy and sloppy as I want without being told to act femininely. It still makes sense, doesn't it? Because scrubbing done in a sophisticated mode is as good as not having scrubbed at all.
Being myself also means being able to sing for as long as I want, without my nasty brothers demanding me to shut up. While cleaning, I could liberally vocalize for they will be forced to tolerate my voice, unless they want to do the cleaning themselves. Knowing how lazy those boys could sometimes be, they'd offer up anything just to avoid the housework. Well this time, they’ve got to bear with my awful voice! Hehehe.
More importantly, the best thing about my dusting-sweeping-scrubbing routine is that it permits me to think real. With all the crap that is being fed to us by the media, we are left with no ideas of our own. As the great vj ala accurately puts it, "We let the media do the thinking for us". How miserable.
By temporarily barring the external hurly-burly, I am able to reflect deeply, to generate my own ideas, and yeah -- to ponder upon the decisions which I have made and are about to make. Needless to say, it exercises my tainted psyche.
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*Some interesting trivia:
People are born with either of the following temperaments: choleric, sanguine, phlegmatic, or melancholic.
Choleric people are the leaders, the daring, the bossy, and the straightforward horde.
Sanguine people are bubbly, excessively cheerful and loud, teeming with ideas yet they find it hard to materialize them.
Phlegmatic individuals are the peaceful and laid-back group, often with the "I don't care" attitude.
Finally, melancholics are deep, organized, and perfectionists. I am one of them. Hehehe! But I am partially sanguine and choleric too.
Ikaw, anong temperament mo?
For the past few days, I've been doing the things which I've never had the time, the energy (and partly, the money) to do before. Thanks to this two-week academic vacation, my plans of doing the things which really make me happy are finally cropping up: unlimited sleep, sessions with my strings, movie marathons, whole-day hang-outs with friends, reading books aside from Campbell and Chang, and of course, cleaning our house.
Undeniably, I love cleaning the house -- and a general cleaning at that. As I have mentioned, it is one of the simple things which make me exceptionally pleased. At home during my spare time, I do most of the general tidying from the artsy foyer to the grubby toilet without a hint of kaartehan. *bow* I dust and sweep and scrub the place ala-Cinderella in one uniform direction (learned from my mom). After which, I redecorate our home's interior with anything that tickles my creative eye.
Perhaps it is out of my repugnance for dirty and disorganized surroundings that I developed this ardor for cleaning. Hahaha! With the melancholic temperament* that I'm born with, I always want to see things in their proper order -- neatly labeled in their proper bottles, boxes, or shelves. In fact, I have my own closet arranged in an oh-so-organized manner. Tops of the same color go together (arranged from the lightest to the darkest hue), and so with the pants and skirts. Then I have my pang-bahay meticulously folded and piled up gently so as not to disarrange the other clothing. As for the undergarments and socks, I have them all settled in an empty fish bowl inside my closet, for easy track down and added decorative accent. You bet, my sister found the fish bowl bizarre, but why bother? Atleast it gives my closet a more welcoming appearance.
Going back to cleaning, it is indeed one activity which allows me to become practically myself. Wearing my most rugged outfit and unkempt hair, I am able to move around freely, without considering the hassle of trying to look pleasant for everyone. Because nobody watches me scour the bathroom tiles and the toilet seats, there is no need to be overly prim and proper and decent-looking. In there, I could act as rowdy and sloppy as I want without being told to act femininely. It still makes sense, doesn't it? Because scrubbing done in a sophisticated mode is as good as not having scrubbed at all.
Being myself also means being able to sing for as long as I want, without my nasty brothers demanding me to shut up. While cleaning, I could liberally vocalize for they will be forced to tolerate my voice, unless they want to do the cleaning themselves. Knowing how lazy those boys could sometimes be, they'd offer up anything just to avoid the housework. Well this time, they’ve got to bear with my awful voice! Hehehe.
More importantly, the best thing about my dusting-sweeping-scrubbing routine is that it permits me to think real. With all the crap that is being fed to us by the media, we are left with no ideas of our own. As the great vj ala accurately puts it, "We let the media do the thinking for us". How miserable.
By temporarily barring the external hurly-burly, I am able to reflect deeply, to generate my own ideas, and yeah -- to ponder upon the decisions which I have made and are about to make. Needless to say, it exercises my tainted psyche.
================
*Some interesting trivia:
People are born with either of the following temperaments: choleric, sanguine, phlegmatic, or melancholic.
Choleric people are the leaders, the daring, the bossy, and the straightforward horde.
Sanguine people are bubbly, excessively cheerful and loud, teeming with ideas yet they find it hard to materialize them.
Phlegmatic individuals are the peaceful and laid-back group, often with the "I don't care" attitude.
Finally, melancholics are deep, organized, and perfectionists. I am one of them. Hehehe! But I am partially sanguine and choleric too.
Ikaw, anong temperament mo?
