Dispatches from an earthquake

There is a new flat. It's up at the 19th floor, but considering that there's four parking floors between what they call the ground floor and the first floor, technically, it's up at the 23rd floor. It's a pain in the ass, just thinking about how you'll bring up all the things you need to bring up. Considering you don't immediately buy new things for your new flat, because you won't immediately have the money for it, it's a pain that you'll have to deal with for years, possibly.

There are some things up here now. Shalla's settled in while I go by from time to time. Next month we're looking to finally have an Internet connection set-up, then I can work here. Finally, I can say I live twenty minutes away from work. And that's on foot.

I spent the night here so I could go to work the next day, and also to have a few things checked. She found the bathroom tiles have cracked. One on the floor, it's obvious. Two on the wall, less so. I think a fourth tile will fall victim, too. The building maintenance guys had a check earlier. When was the unit turned over? Last year, I think. It's past the three-month warranty. You'll have to shoulder everything now. Another pain in the ass. More permits.

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Some things did go

"Hey," Jeany texted me. "How's being free from blogging?"

Well, first off, I have not quit blogging entirely. I did say this blog will continue to be a running concern, if only because I don't have to update it every day, but just at least four times a month. Oh, yes, I did not mention it here the whole time, right. I closed the other blog. I closed it last week.

Yes, for one, having to update regularly is incredibly time-intensive. And I'm doing more at work. And that can be more exciting sometimes. Most of the time. More stressful, but still somehow more exciting. The blog's been a chore for the past couple of years, which is why I can't quite believe it when people profess how it's influenced a lot of things - saying it has myself doesn't quite feel as convincing.

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Perhaps never

Almost seven years ago I met Shalla for the first time.

"We met online" is the stock answer I give when people ask me about our origin story. It's really her chancing upon this blog and posting a heart on my apparently now non-existent chatboard. One thing led to another, and now, she's showing me this one stupid Piffle just bouncing around aimlessly.

I wonder if the same could have happened if everything happened today.

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You really shouldn't be diagnosing yourself of anything, even if you're reading the most reputable of sources. Your vision is most definitely impaired on this one. In this case, though, I couldn't help it.

Chronic fatigue? I want to sleep a lot during weekends.

Insomnia? I think I'm beginning to have it. A couple of nights ago I woke up at one in the morning and failed to fall asleep since. I thought it's the coffee I had at the event I attended in Clark. But last night I got home at one in the morning - and slept half an hour later - and yet I woke up at half past five. And I can't fall asleep since.

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Somewhere on my bedroom floor lie carcasses. Many carcasses. At least seven or eight carcasses. They're mosquitos.

There are a lot of mosquitos in my place lately. It's unusual, I'll say. I've never had to leave the house (to go to work, or somewhere else, early in the morning) and be greeted by a swarm of them buzzing about. For a while there was this mosquito in my room I couldn't kill for weeks, until we finally bought another one of those things that look like a tennis racquet but electrified, to kill those pesky things. Thus, those eight mosquitos on the floor at some point.

And we're not the only one. Every morning I'd hear, from our neighbors, the sound of those very electrified racquets. Pak. Pak. Pak. Pak pak pak. I should've gone for zap because that's what it really is, but pak sounds much more accurate. Also, they must have even more mosquitos than we do.

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