Domesticated

The last P200 went to Chai’s gasoline. When I left the house this morning I was toying with the idea of driving her to the office and back without getting fuel, but the yellow warning light flashed as we left La Vista and I can’t risk getting stranded with no money to pay for a tow.

Today is day two of me being “domesticated”. I actually have no choice. The maids are on leave and I’m out of funds. I woke up at seven o’ clock to prepare my lunch.

Yesterday was my first time to cook rice. I know how to prepare it in theory. I know how to measure the water using my hand. I saw the maids do it. I also remember how I helped out in the cooking during our Boy Scout camping in grade school. But yesterday was my first time to cook it by myself, and it was self-gratifying. When I took out the lid and the smoke cleared, the sight of freshly-cooked rice was magical.

The tapa was a no-brainer. You get a pan, put some oil, heat it up a bit, and fry the meat. Unlike the rice, there’s a little amount of chamba here.

Now I know this isn’t a big deal for most of you. Add to that the fact that I used a rice cooker. But look at it this way – at least I will be an asset if I join Survivor.