Those hours aren’t just going to fill themselves. Here’s how I killed the time yesterday.
I woke up a 4:27 after a good night’s sleep of six hours and nineteen minutes. That’s what my Fitbit tells me anyway, I don’t remember much of that.
(all times approximate)
4:30 to 6:30: Coffee and the internet. Scrolled Facebook for new activity/messages. Responded to comments on my blog. Visited my favorite sites to see what was happening in the rest of the world: Althouse, Big Hominid, HotAir, Instapundit, PowerLine, Twitchy, and ROKDrop. Checked my email accounts, then read some forums I’m a member of (PI@Night, Philippines Addicts, and Quora).
And Facebook memories brought me this from twelve years ago:
6:30 to 7:00: I took a shower, then fed and walked the dogs.
7:00 to 7:30: Filled the slow cooker with chili ingredients: browned ground beef, chili seasoning, diced onion, kidney beans, pinto beans, and diced tomatoes with green chilies.
7:30 to 8:00: Medicine and health check.
8:00 to 8:30: Passed some time playing solitaire.
8:30 to 11:00: Grocery shopping. My driver swung by my future house to pick up Swan, and we were off for SBMA (the old Navy base). First stop was BPI to raid the ATM and restock my cash supply for the coming week. Then I changed things up and visited the Puregold supermarket. I do this every few months hoping to find items that are endlessly out of stock at Royal.
11:00 to 3:00: Lunch, blogging, and internet exploration. We dropped Swan and the few items she bought (and I paid for) at her place. She had some business to attend to but said she’d try and see me later. When I got home, I fired up the oven and baked a batch of cornbread. The chili was done when the cornbread was, so I had myself a meal.
I knocked out yesterday’s post with more than the usual amount of grammar and punctuation errors. Sorry about that. I hope today’s effort shows improvement, but I’m not betting on it.
Did some chats on the Facebook Messenger app. Swan advised she would not be able to get together after all. Mountain Mama MJ said she was stuck in Olongapo and wouldn’t be able to come for her allowance at the usual time (2:00). I told her she could just meet me at Sloppy Joe’s later. I also advised that beginning next month, I would be sending her stipend monthly via Western Union instead of her picking up weekly allotments from me. I feel obligated to maintain my commitment to helping her and the kids out, but I don’t need the hassle of being available at specified times for the handoff. She’ll have to learn to budget that money based on her own priorities, but she seemed okay with that arrangement.
3:00 to 8:00: My night on the town. I normally don’t leave the house until around four, but I was feeling frustrated about Swan’s inability to join me, even for some TV time at home, so I declared an early start to beer o’clock. At least the rain had finally ended.
My first stop was Sloppy Joe’s.
MJ arrived shortly after I did, so I handed her the cash and bought her a Coke. She told me her sad tales of living as a single mother on the mountain. The recent storm had knocked down her banana trees, eliminating one of her sources of extra income. Her roof is also leaking. Life is hard on the poor like that, it seems, but she’s a fighter. She’ll get through it.
MJ left, and I had some more beers and chat with my fellow bargoers. I was waiting for five o’clock with the intention of visiting Whiskey Girl and taking advantage of the “buy one, get one” pricing, but one of the customers told me the hours had changed and the bar doesn’t open until six. Alright, then I’ll go have me some dinner. Next stop, John’s place.
The waitress advised that the daily special was beef enchiladas. That sounded like a good choice to me.
While I was waiting for my order, Joy messaged me asking if I had eaten yet. I didn’t tell her I was just across the highway from Hideaway, but decided to surprise her after I finished my meal. I didn’t want to go there empty handed, so I bought a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts to share with the girls.
A couple of beers and lady drinks later, I made my way down the highway to Whiskey Girl.
My old favorite Jen was there, but my new favorite Kim was not. Oh well, that saved me some money I suppose. I bought two beers (and got two for free), and treated Jen to two lady drinks before departing.
The usual trike wasn’t outside Whiskey Girl, so I walked up the highway to the trike stand on Baloy Road. And since I was there anyway, I did my nightcap at Snackbar.
And then I got to talking to Richard, the guy sitting nearby my stool. I had seen him around before but not really chatted. Turns out he reads my blog! After all these years (nineteen and counting,) I’m still surprised when I randomly encounter one of the folks who spend time reading my drivel. It’s a little disconcerting since I like to pretend I have some anonymity, but overall it’s a good feeling.
And that’s where my night out ended. Grabbed a trike home, made me a strawberry, banana, and mango smoothie, and then had a goodnight chat with Swan.
9:13: That’s what time my Fitbit tracker says I ended my Tuesday with the blissful peace of sleep.
I guess you could say that’s just the way I roll. Better to have too much time on my hands than not enough!
Sitting on this barstool talking like a damn fool Got the twelve o'clock news blues And I've given up hope for the afternoon soaps And a bottle of cold brew Is it any wonder I'm not crazy? Is it any wonder I'm sane at all Well I'm so tired of losing- I got nothing to do and all day to do it I go out cruisin' but I've no place to go and all night to get there Is it any wonder I'm not a criminal? Is it any wonder I'm not in jail? Is it any wonder I've got Too much time on my hands? It's ticking away with my sanity I've got too much time on my hands It's hard to believe such a calamity I've got too much time on my hands And it's ticking away, ticking away from me Too much time on my hands (It's t-t-t-t-ticking away) Too much time on my hands (And I don't know what to do with myself) Too much time on my hands Too much time on my hands Too much time on my hands Too much time on my hands Now, I'm a jet fuel genius - I can solve the world's problems Without even trying I got dozens of friends and the fun never ends That is, as long as I'm buying Is it any wonder I'm not the president Is it any wonder I'm null and void? Is it any wonder I've got Too much time on my hands? It's ticking away with my sanity I've got too much time on my hands It's hard to believe such a calamity I got too much time on my hands And it's ticking away, ticking away from me Too much time on my hands (T-t-t-t-ticking away)
“Always entertaining watching the worst drivers in the world (at least that I’ve seen) pass by.”
I always laugh when people express a fear about using a self-driving car. I want to tell them to spend some time overseas in places like the PI, etc., and they would be wishing for the improvement in driving that would come with self driving cars.
Korea is enjoying a break from the monsoon, too: there was no rain yesterday, none today, and there won’t be any Thursday or Friday from what I see on Accuweather.com. Hope you have more sunny days in store.
John’s menu still looks awesome. If I spent two weeks in Barretto, I’d visit his restaurant every day and just plow through the whole menu, ordering several dishes at a time.
So at roughly 50 pesos to the dollar, 18,000 pesos comes out to $360. (At the real exchange rate, it’s closer to $329.) Whether that’s a lot depends on how long your purchases last, I guess. How many times a month do you shop like this?
Maybe Richard will see fit to leave some comments later.
Those enchiladas did look good. So did your chili. Can’t go wrong with Tex-Mex, I guess.
Yes, John has an extensive and varied menu, and you wouldn’t go wrong with any of his offerings.
I usually spend between 10 and 15 thousand each week at Royal. I don’t tend to scrimp when it comes to keeping the pantry full. That amount also includes laundry products and other household items. My helpers partake as well. I’m more budget conscious of late, but I’m likely to be making reductions to my bar expenses rather than my food bills.
The Philippines was a Spanish colony for 500 years, so it only seems appropriate that I partake in some of my favorite treats from that culture. (Yes, I know Mexican isn’t really Spanish in origin, but that ain’t gonna stop me.) I occasionally order in Spanish, but that goes over about as well as when I speak Korean. All in fun!
Brian, for sure. Koreans were crazy and aggressive behind the wheel. What I’ve seen in the Philippines is an overall lack of basic driving skills manifested ignorantly and dangerously. Also, a disregard for basic traffic safety rules. What laws there are are rarely enforced. I get road rage just riding with my driver (he’s better than most but still does some crazy shit), but then I remind myself to take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. What else can I do?