It didn’t help that I was awakened several times through the night by the whipping of gale-force winds.  What made me antsy was the whipping wind left as suddenly as it came.  And it came again and again. The pelting rain was not constant, it was temperamental. I normally sleep by ten and I don’t wake up until the alarm clock rudely jolts me awake eight hours later. Not last night: I was awake at 2pm and at 4pm until I pulled myself from bed to begin making breakfast for the adults (low-fat, low-cholesterol, low-sugar breakfast) and a separate breakfast for the kids which should be enough to also be their lunch.

I turn on the TV and I see film footages of floods over the Metro.  I hear Metro Mayors all suspending classes.  I wait for an announcement from the mayor of Meycauayan and guess what? The silence from her office was deafening.  I did the next best thing, I texted the school principal.

Believe me, I don’t often text the principal to ask if classes are suspended or not.  I administer a pre-school for our church and if tables were turned and parents texted me to ask if classes are suspended, I’d really be climbing the walls! I was desperate.

Hubby, bless his wise unflappable soul said: Let’s just drive the kids to school. It was a good solution: I wouldn’t need to worry about the kids stranded in traffic, wading though flood while carrying 15 kilos of books and notebooks in their backpacks.  But hubby himself found a hole in the plan:  we may get stuck in the car in flood waters!

So by 5:30 am, I was biting my nails waiting for the weather to clear up, waiting for the rice to get cooked, waiting for the school principal to reply and waiting for Joan Alarilla to suspend classes already! At the same time, I was checking the water in the radiator, checking the tires, checking the oil and the brake fluid.  I had to start the car just in case it decided to be recalcitrant today.

I was startled by the vibration of the cellphone.  The principal replied: walang klase ngayon.  Whooppeee! The kids scream.  But as soon as the whoop came out of their mouths, they grunted at the absurdity of having  frantically finished all the homework the whole weekend instead of vegetating in front of the TV; the uselessness of having awakened so early; taken a shower and dressed up only to stay home.

They’re disappointed?  What about me?  Hubby and I planned a quiet lunch today, just the two of us.  Let me tell you what a quiet lunch means to me:  a quiet lunch means I don’t have to fix the lunch for us (I’m running out of ideas as to how to fix fish which is all we can eat at this time); a quiet lunch is the lollipop the dentist gives you after you’ve had a root canal.  In our case, a quiet lunch of fresh lumpia, braised tofu and pancit canton at Ongpin or a quiet lunch of steamed lapu-lapu and polonchay with garlic at David’s is a prize for being patient while waiting for the doctor to arrive; enduring the cold steel of the chairs at the hospital waiting room; the prick of the needle to give blood for whatever test is scheduled for the day.  A quiet lunch is a lifeline.  It’s the only sane moment in an otherwise horrific day (no, horrific week; no, horrific three months of doctor’s appointments, etc.)

Instead, hubby and I won’t go see the doctor today.  That’s a relief, right?  Not really.  When we’re seated in the hospital lobby, we can have a quiet conversation and hold hands and no one will think we’re showing off or being too affectionate.  Middle-aged couples with health concerns, waiting for the nerve-wracking appointment with the doctor are allowed to hold hands: it’s not romantic, it’s reassuring.

So, fine, ok, I’m an adult, I can take a little disruption of my well-laid plans for the day.  But guess what?  Right after I had settled in and accepted the fact that I would be staying in the house today, the sun comes shining through the dismal overcast sky. I am ready to scream.  The kids decided to put their earphones on and just pull the covers above their heads and sleep.  Hubby, so mature and together, decided to do work.

What am I going to do now? I decided to be bitchy inside (I can’t be bitchy outside because I”m supposed to be a role model for my children.) I played piano for about half an hour and that took off the edge.  And while I was playing, it occurred to me how ungrateful I was.

I was complaining about what I had lost today: my plans and my quiet lunch.  On the other hand, the people I care for the most are snug and dry in a house where it’s not flooded.  We have food in the ref and there’s no power outage.  And the cable is not blinking on and off!  We have the time to talk and laugh and watch TV together.  I get to take a midday nap, cuddle and nuzzle and enjoy a day off from the usual grind.

So I gave the bitch inside a time-out…..no, I booted her out of my head.  And here I am, typing away my frustration and making sense of Butchoy.  I do hope I am not alone….. I hope I give voice to others who are also restless on this rainy day.