Wednesday, July 27, 2011

run away




Have you ever wondered what will happen if you just drop everything and run away? If you just packed up your bags and left? Have you ever wondered how much courage it will take to let go of everything you’ve worked hard for, your family, your career, your properties—everything that the world says would make you a successful person?

And before my friends out there start leaving messages on Facebook saying “Everything all right with you?” and “What’s all this about? Let’s talk.” And “Do you need a marriage counselor?” I’ll make a disclaimer and say this is just a figment of an overactive imagination. You guys pretend I’m into a story draft, and I’ll pretend the same way.

I have never been an impulsive person. Everything in my life has to follow a certain order, and I hate losing control of my tight little world. I plan the grocery list in the same way I plan my monthly office wardrobe and the next five years of my career progression. So if you were to imagine me running away, something has to be fundamentally wrong with my life.

And if I were to imagine myself running away, I think it’s going to be funny.


1. I would start saving a few hundreds each month, in cash. I could lie to myself and say it's my daughter's college money, but it will actually be my running-away money. I would have to start saving at least five years ahead of time before I'd be content with the amount.


2. I would start sneaking an item of clothing into the office, one at a time. I would not want a dramatic exit from the house, with eighteen pieces of luggage and a freaked-out cat. All my running-away clothing would be properly packed and in storage somewhere, long before the actual date.


3. I would plan on my destination. My best bet would be a place far enough away that there's no chance of running into relatives, but with existing internet connection so I can still discreetly check them on Facebook.


4. I would prepare for a new life by listing down the career options when I finally run away. I could become (i) a freelance writer for some women's magazine; (ii) a caretaker of some vacation house near the beach so I can still write when I'm not cleaning the house; (iii) a seamstress specializing in curtains and pillowcases; or (iv) a teacher in a far-flung area. Aside from (ii), I have to further prepare for the new career by taking technical writing classes, sewing classes, or getting a teaching license.


5. I would rehearse saying goodbye. I would kiss my children every morning and night, and cook their meals on weekends, and play with them as often as I can. I will also keep their medical records updated and their teeth cleaned twice a year, so that they'll be perfectly healthy when I leave.


6. I would worry about my children's college education. I would start computing and saving, so that I'd have some money to leave them when I run away. And I'd drop enough hints to my sister and my sisters-in-law, that if something happens and I'm gone, they have to check on my kids to see that they're not abused, they're not going hungry, and they're going to school.


7. When the running-away day comes, I will cancel my mobile phone service and switch to prepaid. There would be no tearful phone calls. Of course I would make sure that all the bills in the house are paid, the checking account has funds, and the fridge is full. Better yet, I could make it a Monday, because on Sundays I go to the market and I make sure that we have soap and sugar and coffee and cooking oil and milk. On Sunday night all the clothes are ironed, the laundry basket is empty, and the cat litter is fresh.


8. I will buy a first-aid kit, charge my Kindle, and label all the assorted wires and chargers that go with my gadgets. I will debate whether I will bring my laptop, or just buy an external hard drive to store all the MP3s, pictures, and story drafts. I will agonize about the shoes I'll leave behind, and whether I'll need five-inch heels in my new life.


9. I will check into a hotel for a couple of days to gather my thoughts, go over my lists, and fill a notebook with my thoughts about running away. I will analyze myself and determine whether I am sufficiently prepared, and decide where I want to end up. Well, of course I have the list already, and if I had considered going abroad I would already have my itinerary one year ahead of time.


And, armed with Excel sheets and 25-year plans, I would be so exhausted about planning that I wouldn't have the energy to actually run away. I knew it.


1 comment:

Badeth said...

Hahahaha! I love this entry :-D