Packing and Unpacking

I hate packing... it forces me to be more organized *groan*. NO, I did NOT inherit my dad's OC-ness. And the next least favorite thing to do besides packing is UNPACKING.

By tomorrow, we have to pack our stuff for Saturday's flight. What we can't pack (due to overshopping--SALE! SALE!), we'd leave for my brother to bring home or dad brings them home, when he comes over for a leave.

But what keeps packing more tolerable is the fact that I look forward to going somewhere more fun and more dynamic than bumming around and getting fat at home. I'd prefer getting fat somewhere else! ^_^

Why?

Coz there's nobody, besides my family, who can berate me for eating more than I burn! Wehehehe...ok, who am I kidding...

Our room is a MESS... plastic bags from malls, clothes brought out to put inside the maletas, which, by the way is strewn all over the floor. It joins the magazines we bought in Singapore, as well as the inflight magazines and the japanese comic books we bought in Singapore. Dad nearly went ballistic when he saw our room one day.

Kababaeng tao, burara!

We came to Dad's apartment, spotless and pristine... and in just three weeks, it had been messy and wild; ah, just like our home! His fridge was once a desert, now a luscious oasis of fruits, juices, milk, meat, spaghetti sauce and the usual carton at the back with mildew (eww!)

Dad would complain about the mess, the disorder and the chaos, but when he finally sees that his apartment is once again clean...

It's clean and quiet all right... too clean... too quiet.

I just remembered one time when Dad still works in Malang. I was still in grade school then. We would be leaving for a flight to Manila then and dad went with us inside the airport. Anne, with her usual 6-7 year old tactless attitude, went to dad and said, "Dad, balik na kami Manila... iyak ka?"

Langyang bata yan! Walang hiya talaga. Napangiti na lang si dad.

Oh well. ^___^