The immigration office showed me some love in the form of a 60-day extension to my tourist visa. I filled my cart with overpriced groceries at Royal and refrained from purchasing my dietary nemesis–ice cream. Then back home for a nap and a blog, filling the hours until it was beer o’clock. And with me being a creature of routine, I headed out to spend Tuesday evening on Baloy Beach, starting at the Kokomo’s floating bar.
So, we headed over to Treasure Island for some grub.
After we got back home, things went a little bit south. I woke up in the night with the uncomfortable feeling that comes with inadequately oxygenated blood. My oximeter confirmed with a reading of 88. I used my nebulizer to little effect, so I fired up the oxygen tank and got the reading up to 97. I went back to bed but couldn’t sleep because of a symphony of wheezing noises when I exhaled. In desperation, I slapped on my headphones to drown out that obnoxious sound, but Stephen Stills couldn’t put me to sleep either. Up once more and messed around on the internet for a while, then saw my blood oxygen was back down to 91. Sucked in some air from the tank again and finally went to sleep a bit after four
I felt better enough this morning to move forward with plans to join the Wednesday Walkers on a hike to Bolon Falls. But while walking the dogs, I had another breathing attack and prudence dictated that I cancel. I am hoping this too shall pass. And I don’t.
I’m taking Swan to dinner tonight for VD at John’s place. Then we will enjoy some live music at Queen Victoria for as long as I can hold out.
Today’s Quora Q&A:
Q: Are you happy that you waited until 65 to retire or do you wish you had done so earlier in your career?
A: I actually retired the first time at 55. I went back to my old job five years later and worked another three before retiring for good at 63. I have no regrets about either decision. The sooner, the better (provided you can afford to) is always the best option, in my opinion. I knew I didn’t want to be that guy who died at his desk.
Here’s a smile or two for you:
Here’s that song the girls on the floater can’t stop dancing too:
The immigration office showed me some love in the form of a 60-day extension to my tourist visa.
I keep forgetting how tenuous your existence there is. Every sixty days of that bureaucratic nonsense would drive me crazy after a while. It’s bad enough that I have to renew my F4 visa every three years. Do you see the same staffers every time you go back, or do the faces change each time?
Swan had a Belgian sandwich
I had to look up what a Belgian sandwich was. In French, it’s called a “Mitraillette,” i.e., a submachine gun (a regular machine gun is a “mitrail,” roughly rhyming with “me try”). Looks delish. And according to Wikipedia, no onions!
re: “He loves me like an endless sea.”
Is that a reference to the infinitude of your love? If not, then I’m stumped because I don’t know how an endless sea loves a person.
I’m taking Swan to dinner tonight for VD at John’s place.
Thank goodness no one says “venereal disease” anymore: it’s all STDs these days. Otherwise, you might have to have a talk with John about his menu selections.
What more can be done for your lungs?
Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day to you both.
Honestly, the immigration process is pretty simple and easy. I fill out the extension form, give them my passport, and pay the fee (around 3000 pesos for 60 days). I’m in and out in 30 minutes or less. Yes, I see the same faces behind the counter all the time. There is a retirement visa I’m eligible for, and that was my intent when I moved here, but it’s more hassle than it is worth for me.
Swan said she liked her sandwich–it looked like roast beef to me.
Yeah, I took endless sea to mean the infinity of love. I guess that sounds more romantic than an “ever-expanding universe.”
Yeah, I keep wishing everyone a Happy VD, and none seem to get the double entendre.
I’m not sure I have any more lung options. If I don’t see improvement soon, I’ll visit the pulmonary specialist for additional guidance.
Agree with your thoughts on retirement. The earlier the better.
I know some people say, “Oh, I love my job. I have no thoughts on retirement.”
Well, would you do it for free?
No!
Then you love the money you get from your job, but maybe not the job itself.
What I miss from my working life is the people. The day-to-day decisions that seemed so important don’t hold a place in my memory; it is my co-workers and teammates that mattered most.