After completing my very toxic clinics last Monday I passed by Cafe Breton and ordered chorizo burger and latte. I guess the chori-burger from Boracay was still on my mind, and it was clearly not the specialty of Breton. I cut the huge burger in half, imagining that my tiny stomach wouldn’t be able to accommodate it. Then proceeded to eat the entire thing anyway.
I checked my schedule for the following day, and discovered with dread that I had nothing planned. Nothing! I had long vacated Tuesdays for errands, rounds, and other activities, but this particular Tuesday was empty. I used to enjoy locking myself up and reading books or writing something or just vegetating until I develop a lower-extremity thrombus, but this time the prospect of doing that filled me with dread and a crippling, overwhelming sadness. Must be the weather. Or the hormonal cycle of my ectopic, atrophic ovaries hiding somewhere, like in my spinal cord. I would go insane if I had to spend the day moping, I told myself as I engulfed the jawbreaking chorizo motherfucker, I would totally go insane! But there was nothing to do (of course there were many things to do, like scrubbing the filthy grouting of my bathroom, or filling-up the long list of Philhealth CF4 forms, but I would rather dunk my head in the toilet bowl and flush it). Luckily Smoketh messaged that “Hey, I would be test-driving a car tomorrow, wanna come?”
“Let me check my organizer… I think my day will be full but I might be able to squeeze you in naman… yes I’m free,” I said.
As Smoketh drove the 7-seater CRV around we oohed and aahed at the new features… the multi-angle cameras… the lane departure warning… the adaptive cruise control…
“Is it too much? Is this a justified purchase? Is this justified? Will this make me poor? Do you really think I should buy? Is this justified?” Smoketh asked in quick succession over post-test-drive burgers.
“Of course it’s justified! Of course!” I said, as I pored through the specs on the brochure. In our heads, Dave Ramsey was nagging us: A car should just be something that brings you from point A to point B! I then recounted my story of having to take the UV Express to go to my clinics, insisting on commuting until a surprise intra-vehicular “buk-buk-buGAWK!” forced me to loan for a car.
Having done this friendship task of being a responsible enabler, I am now thinking of a quid-pro-quo: something that I’ve been wanting to buy but would require a friend to enable me with rational arguments. I’m thinking of a huge chocolate almond sansrival cake for myself.