The Perks Of Living Alone


I admit that it is nice to live with your parents.


You can always find food in the fridge, table, and basically in any corner of the house. You don’t have to pay for those food, nor for the rent nor the bills. In my case, life is even easier because we do have servants in the house which do almost all of the house works such as cleaning, mopping, cooking, laundry, even making my bed (all I need to do is to wash my own undies). Cars are there to use, and the petrol tank was never empty. When things are missing, you could always ask Mum. When you don’t have money, you can always ask Dad.

Life is that simple.

However… It’s a bugger when you have your own things.

It is so hard to go on a diet because parents would always feed you, and always think that you need to eat more although you look like a whale. Coming home late is no longer fun because they would keep calling you and they would interrogate you whenever you come home. Alcohol is definitely out of question, especially when you are out with friends they have never heard of. Having a lie in is hardly possible because parents believe that nine a clock in the morning is late.

Locking yourself in your room to play game all day is a luxury, since they would insist that you would go out and meet your friends. They wouldn’t understand when you say that ALL your friends were there online with you, and you were hanging out… virtually. And by the way, locking yourself in your room is kind of impossible because they would have the spare key and would unlock it after getting no response from you.

While family time is a must, you would never be able to choose the TV channel. It’s either your mother’s favourite soap opera, or your dad’s… well… your dad’s choice might be way more interesting than your mum’s. However, after a good 25 years of marriage, your dad might have let the privilege to pick the program go, and watch whichever what your mum wants to watch. So you would end up with the asian drama anyway.

Oh, maybe I was talking about me in my parents’ house.

The sad thing is, I might never be able to have my own house by myself. It’s a shame because a part of me is telling me that it’s purely because I am a woman. In the culture I grew up with, no matter how successful a woman could be, she would never leave the parents’ house until she’s married. Then she would live in her husband’s house.

It’s sad that I might have to let go the imagination of having a place of my own. A place that I decorate for myself, without having to think of what other might want. I would never be able to paint the whole house in pink, or choose the floral pattern for the curtains. I could never be able to pick the cute furniture, decorated with lacy throws. I might never be able to have a big wardrobe, huge shoe shelves, and an immensely large mirror in front of the dressing table. I could never decorate my bathroom with flowers, or keep my kitchen away from distasteful junk foods. Basically… I would never be able to live the life I have been dreaming of.

Not that I have a second thought of marriage. No.

It wouldn’t change a thing. As I said, I would never be able to leave my parents’ house anyway, so buying a house of my dream would be impossible no matter what.

But one could dream. And maybe one day… Maybe ^__^


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