Moving in, Grooving

I moved in to a condo unit along EDSA with Shy Guy, Andre, and other friends last Sunday. It was the most intense pseudo-work out I had in years. Transporting appliances and pieces of furniture was so beyond my masculine capacity.

But of course, after everything was set up and decorated, the satisfaction that I got from being in a lovely home a stone’s throw from my office was immeasurable. The view isn’t bad, either. To our left was Ortigas skyline and to our right, Pioneer Street with The Fort in the background.

However, it wasn’t perfect. So not.

For one, the condominium building is along EDSA and our unit is directly facing the violent (and insufferably noisy) tremors of the metropolis. I did not expect EDSA was producing 10 million decibels. Last night was our second night and we still had not gotten any decent sleep.

Every time an ambulance went speeding through the highway, we would wake up. I even wished, “Come on, just let the damn patient die and let us sleep.”

Every time a bus driver hit his horn, we would be sucked out of dreamland and my rage against city buses was multiplied by the number of times they break road rules.

We’d love to close the windows but using the air-conditioner is gonna hurt our pockets. Darn. We better find a way to sleep sound.

…

The night we moved in, after a series of heavy lifting, we had a pig-out session, food courtesy of Andre. I had more than my share. Later that night, Shy Guy was giving me a massage. He started giving my upper back hard pushes. Finally, he worked on my lower back really hard and I farted just like that.

Nabigla ako eh. Sorry naman.

We ended up laughing, talking about farting for the rest of the night.

…

I was able to convince Shy Guy to start watching Desperate Housewives. We began with Season 1, of course. Sooner than I expected, my hubby got addicted to it. In fact, we do DH-marathons every night. But lately, I can’t help but notice that we spend much of our night watching, before we know it, it’s past midnight and we’re too tired to do something else so we just hit the sack.

And then it hit me. Desperate Housewives is getting in the way of my sex life. Hopefully, I won’t become a desperate housewife myself. Haha.

…

I think my face is frakkin’ infected. Before we moved in, I paid my dermatologist a visit and she gave me the usual OMG-that’s-the-most-painful-thing-ever facial. Afterwards, I underwent another procedure, glycolic peel, and I shouted “OMG now THAT’s the most painful thing ever.” It was just nasty. Imagine my derma going pricking-happy on my face and then applying a burning chemical for minutes.

That same day, we cleaned the house in preparation for the moving in. And now my face hurts.

Haaay.

…

My officemates, including my boss, are forcing me to throw a housewarming party. Haha. And yeah, we will.

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