I Want My Yaya Back!


Okay.... this is going to sound waaaaay immature. But Ella and I both work miles away from home and we get back to Fairview in the wee hours of the night. The next morning, we have to wake up at 4:30 and leave by 5:30 a.m. Saturdays, I teach in La Salle the whole day. Sundays, God, would you want to work your ass of after a hectic week like that? Where, in God's good earth, can we find the time and energy to: pick up dog poop, feed the dogs, tend the garden, wash clothes, iron clothes, cook, and still have some space to breathe before knocking off?

I don't know. I freakin' don't know!!! I want Ate Josie back! My parents had to send her home 3 years ago because we didn't have money to pay her anymore... and they needed their medicines more. She was with us for 11 years. But now... I'm hoping we can try to get her back. I have convinced myself that I just don't want a maid, but we need it. The house needs it. It's falling apart.
I have learned more about running a household in 10 months than I have ever had in my 25 years. My parents gone and everything --- it really tends to sober you up and somebody had to bear the brunt of responsibility. But--- please, dear Lord, I can't do it alone!
Now, action. I must take action.

I'll scream with all my might (withmatching tears, tears pa sa eyes): Yaya, come back!

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