procrastination is the mother of all wonders (and creations). preparing the presentation for tomorrow took a lot more effort than i expected, and still seem to come up short. i am not sure if it’s because i expect too much from myself, or too little. or because i just don’t understand what’s expected of me.

sucks to be me.

i am fairly bemused, and a little disappointed tonight, when i called home. for everyone’s benefit, i am just going to explain this once more:

my mum loves to spend money, but she can’t be fucked earning any. as of last week, she owed the housing loans about 15 000. that’s right, FIFTEEN THOUSAND, when my dad’s unemployed. she got employed about a month back at the local supermarket (much like woolies), which was also part of some trade/workers’ union back home, which meant small but stable income.

she quit it anyways, just because people are ensuring that she IS doing her job.

bludger.

dad warned me though, that she’s getting desperate. her once stable avenue of “money” is now dwindling. her sources of money, aka banks and rental from our private apartment, are finally realising that she cannot be trusted. housing agents are telling their clients not to give her any deposit when they rent a place, or if there’s nothing wrong with the house, to not pay the portion of the rent that’s equivalent to the deposit. banks aren’t willing to lend her money to her name, period.

and whatever she owes, even if she’s just a month overdue, they are starting to call her, off the records.

she had tried to use my name to loan money. but LO AND BEHOLD THERE ARE LAWS IN SINGAPORE!!! you can’t fucking use my name without my approval dumb woman. she used me as a form of mortgage  – “she’s going to graduate and come back and earn BIG MONEY!!” – yes woman, i am going to go home, armed with politics and criminology major and earn 3721938923892 bux a month to once and for all solve your financial problem.

i wish she had just wake up and feel the thorns she had created for herself. the moment she managed to get on the phone to me, the first thing she said wasn’t “how are you”, wasn’t “do you miss home?” or even “i miss you” or just to talk about how her day went. it was a barrage of screaming to remind me i have to fulfill my loyal duties as her daughter to come home and work and give her the money. that even if i remain here, i am to send a huge portion of my earnings home.

look, i have no qualms at all about that. IF she knows how to MANAGE the funds. but she does not. all i wanted to do right then, was to ask her to let me go home for the holidays.

“mum, are you even listening? i want to go home for holidays. it’s in september, i miss home.” there i said it. i thought she would just shut up and suddenly go “omg!” but no such luck.

“IF YOU ARE DONE STUDYING, FINISH ALREADY! YOU HAVE TAKEN ALL OUR MONEY TO STUDY AND YOU SHOULD BE GIVING IT BACK TO US NOW!!!” wow? let’s see who spent more money in the 3 years i was away.

yo mum, that car alone was 2 years worth of my studies already. the amount you owe the government NOW is equivalent to my 1 year’s worth of school fees. WHO BAILED YOU OUT?

dad.

so isn’t it time for YOU to repay him back the money? he never wanted to move out from thomson, where he was debt free, happy, and in a prime location (in his opinion anyways. being situated on top of exhumed graves scares me). he never drove a car except those that YOU got. every car he ever bought, was for YOU. every debt he ever paid was those that YOU got into. now you are done using him, it’s my turn? not a chance.

“yo, i just want to go home for holidays. i am tired and stressed. it’s dead cold here. can i go home? it’s just 2 weeks, i can only afford 2 weeks away.” i grew firm

“what?!?! how much would that cost in SGD?”

“i don’t know. i haven’t been home since it was 1.12 or something in exchange. i need like 1500, to pay off 4 weeks of rent since i would be away for 2 weeks (some lame calculation.) and the air tix. i should be able to fork out my own expenditure.”

“WHAT?!?!?! why don’t you just work during those 2 weeks and send home those money instead!”

“why don’t YOU FUCK RIGHT OFF because i have been working my ass of for the last almost 11 months now. i haven’t been home in TWO AND A HALF YEARS. you ask why don’t i miss you, well here’s the reason, YOU AREN’T GIVING ME ANY REASON TO MISS YOU.”

“we are broke blah blah blah…”

“yer, right, and i didn’t say i want it. it’s just a loan. i already repaid dad 500. i just want to go home earlier than planned that’s why i don’t have enough, unless i go home in feb next year. but i can’t wait”

“NO YOU WORK, AND SEND HOME THE MONEY.”

“eh. you want to make use of me right? you want me to give you money, use my name to take loans right? infact… how about this, you go fuck yourself, and see if i care when the authorities come after your ass for the money? i have been here 2 and a half years, and all you can think of is the money i am going to bring to you. well, it’s not coming” *click*

perhaps i don’t sound like the best daughter after all. maybe, i should have never sent home any money. and never called home. perhaps something would have stirred in her.

or maybe, in my aunt’s words, i should just give up on her already and move on with my life. my aunt thinks there’s just no point in hoping she had somehow reform. i still have the hope there, that one day we can be a normal mother – daughter. you know, go out, shopping, chit chat, eat, talk about boys, stuff that i see people have with their mums. my mum’s just behaving like some money-grubbing mamasan. there’s no conversation. everyone of them “conversations” we ever had was something to do with money.

“tell your dad to give me money for mortgage, if not we be evicted” she had call me back in my first year, in desperation and fear. the way our finances are set up, she pay the mortgages with rent money, dad pays the rest. he trusts her to handle rent money, which she always squanders. she never had the balls to tell him.

“when you start working, what’s your starting pay like, compared to doctors and lawyers?” – why i was told i don’t deserve to study overseas.

when we went to a factory in malaysia once, my mum finally wore me thin with this inquisitiveness of people’s PAY. she asked a young girl in the factory how much she earns, which was literally 1 sgd per hour. she smirked at the girl, and started bragging about how at her age, my mum was earning 20k a week. “so much good it did, considering how much debt you are in now” i retorted in that girl’s favour. the sneer dropped.

but the girl replied, “she’s still your mum at the end of the day”

i was a little embarassed, firstly by the retort, secondly by the reminder that this woman who despises poor people, being one herself too (how ironic), will always be my mum.

i can not be like that. i can not.

technorati tags:mum, phone, call, home, personal, rant, blog, tired