Again.

I did it and I regretted it, within 5 minutes.

Yes. They have been disappointed that I chose to live my holiday leisurely and unproductively, instead of clearing the store room as promised from the start of the month.

Quote, "Daddy and Mummy are so upset" Daddy on the phone.

There I was, in a fit of guilt since the start of the month, who finally decided to be initiative for once. Went to the store room/attic on the 3rd floor and started to work in the dust. With brother and maid.

Can't say we are completely done, but at least we managed to dish out old fans, chairs and many boxes of games, toys, old clothes, curtain, tapes etc, wiped them, and chuck pack them nicely into boxes, before carrying the loads together down to the ground floor. Well, at least those were urgent as Dad said we are unloading them at the orphanage and recycling centre tonight.

Seeing that the junks are filling the living room, I called Dad to confirm that the "operation" will be on tonight, in fear of causing a permenant blockage of the entrance.

Something in his tone tells me that he is relieved that we are finally keeping to our promise. But it also sounded disatisfied, "Exactly how many boxes were there again?".

"Six or seven, and still counting,"

Silence.

"That's all? You could do more."

And before I knew it, I blew my top. I mean, here we were, drenched in sweat, and complacent for now that at least half the junk was cleared, and he couldn't be more appreciative? I thought of rewarding the day's graft with my visit to Sara's house. And he implied that I'm so easily giving myself a treat with the smallest accomplishment achieved on Earth.

OK. I sound like a spoilt ungrateful brat, who whines when given just a small task.

I heard furious voices coming out of myself and it wasn't all at good.

And I hung up with a "Whatever. Bye".





And all he cound put up with my attitude was a sigh.









Which makes me want to hit myself against the wall for my impulsiveness. And that obnoxious ego of mine.