1 day missing (the adobo story)

i woke up this afternoon feeling lost as if i was still in lalaland. i looked out the window and the sun was of pale orange, kissing the concrete wall of the house across the street. I instinctively reached out for my trusty alarm clock, and struggled to open my eyes to see what time it was. “PUNYEMAS!!! 6:30 na!” I stayed up late last night (this morning) trying to write my screenplay. And as each of my days go, I wake up late the next day. But I didn’t expect I was going to wake up this late. “6:30!!!, wasted ka dude!!!” An entire day rendered useless! So, knowing that my mother will be coming over, I jumped off my bed, hurriedly put-on my shirt and scurried into the kitchen to prepare food. “What shall I prepare... what shall I prepare... aha! Something quick and easy to cook! ADOBO!” So I opened the freezer, got the pork thawed, measured the soy sauce and the vinegar, rummaged from our selection of spices for some whole peppers and a leaf of laurel. Then I remembered, “I haven’t fed the fishies!” Yes, psychotic and pervertedly carnivorous these goldfishes may be, they are still my mother’s pets. So, after saying my sorry’s to them, I carefully sprinkled fish flakes over them, cautious of the possibility that they might leap from the aquarium and maul my fingers. Fortunately, no untoward incident happened during my/their feeding session. Waiting for the rice to cook, I had the dishes from last night’s dinner washed, and the empty water bottles filled. Afterwards, knowing how mama is with dust, I wiped the pieces of furniture, the vases, the computer, the cabinets, the shelf, the platera and anything else that had the white powder on it. The rice is ready. I then put the pork cuts in a pot together with the other ingredients. What’s good with adobo is that you just put all the goodies in and leave it sitting until it cooks. Voila! ADOBO: ang ulam ng mga tamad at adik sa baboy at maalat. The steams off and im just waiting for the ulam to cook. So I decided to water the plants. But then, when I got outside to the pasilio, I noticed something different... It was quiet (cue: Twilight Zone music). You can actually hear nothing. during this time, one should be hearing the shrilling voice of our neighbor in his videoke singing some dead person’s song like My Way by Sinatra, or you should be seeing kids playing mataya-taya, piko, patintero or anything that kids play on weekends when there are no classes. Still perplexed, I decided to turn on the TV to make sure that the world still hasn’t been invaded by aliens and that I’m not left to live in this earth alone with deadly killer cannibal fishes. What I saw was... errr... less than comforting. I saw nothing but hundreds of thousands of black and white dots moving frantically from one end of the screen to another. The goldfishes are starting to look more scary by the second. the ticking of the clock got louder as if it was the only remnant of sound in the universe. I switched to the next channel, and to the next, and to the next – but all there was were little black and white dots running around and the deafening noise of the clock. “Not today Sadako, not today... Please...” But when I was about to break down and shout, there she was, a woman holding a microphone, her face wet with tears, crying hallelujah on channel 13. with a raised eyebrow, I dim-wittedly scratched my head. “huh?” from eerie to el shaddai in 10 seconds. Then, after regaining some sanity, I again pointed the remote control towards the TV. And low and behold, Ka Peter Musngi demonstrating how to bake pandesal in Kumikitang Kabuhayan. It was, as it turned out to be, 6:30... IN THE MORNING!!! There is nothing like a good panic attack in the morning, (milk for my cereal, adrenaline for my bloodstream, makes no sense to me). No wonder the gold fishes didn’t try to bite off my fingers. Oh well, at least, I’ll have adobo for breakfast. Nice.

notice to the public:
if you’re still scratching your head trying to make sense out of this post, searching for a moral lesson or any semblance of a point, you might as well stop before your scalp starts on bleeding.

ADOBO AT KANIN. ASTIG!