"No matter how strong you are, there's always that one person who can make you weak."
"Please hold me tight and don't let go."
"I'm not letting you go, I'm not letting us go."
"Promise me that you won't leave."
"I promise."
♤♤♤♤♤♤♤
MIA IRA LAZAN...
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🦋MIA🦋
So apparently I don't know how to handle any kind of house chore. From a young age, my days were filled with the comfort of house help catering to my every need including tidying up my bedroom and preparing my meals. My parents detached me from domestic tasks and daily chores and all my time was spent exploring the world, travelling and modelling. Now I'm standing infront of a laundry machine with no idea on how to operate it. The simplest of tasks have become daunting challenges to me.
I pick my phone searching online on how to operate a laundry machine.
Numerous tutorials appear instantly and I heave a profound sigh of relief finally choosing one and diligently following the provided instructions to carry out the laundry task. My only hope is that I don't end up damaging my garments along with the washing machine. I'm confident that with time and practice I'll become proficient in this task, no pressure.
As I leave the laundry room and make my way downstairs to the living room, I find myself staring at the vacuum cleaner with a sense of confusion, pondering over the proper method operating it. I feel like a fish out of water when it comes to household tasks.
The door bell chimes prompting me to set aside the vacuum cleaner and making my way towards the entrance. As I swing the door open, I'm greeted by the sight of two maids elegantly clad in their uniforms. It's clear to me who has dispatched them to my doorstep, I don't need to inquire.
With a smile, one of them informs me, "Your mother has requested our presence to assist you." I recognize them as part of the household's staff employed as maids back home.
Once again I cast a fleeting glance at unfamiliar vacuum cleaner, uncertain about its operation. The memory of my ongoing struggles with household chores floods my mind. I'm in a new territory I'm totally not accustomed to. "Okay." I open the door wider allowing them both to step inside and we proceed further into the house with one of them attending to the cleaning duties in the kitchen while the other vacuums the living room.
I will try doing chores again tomorrow. Yay to me, queen of procrastination.
Several hours later, the maids depart after providing me with assistance on the household tasks including preparing breakfast for me. My culinary skills are limited and I'm unfamiliar with operating any kitchen appliances. As I step into the dining room, a mesmerising scent of potato bacon omelette wafts in the air, its savoury essence mingling with the smoked salmon deviled eggs. Next to them is a plate of vanilla honey french toasts, the aroma of warm vanilla enveloping the room. The toasts are golden brown and crisp, a drizzle of honey adding a touch of sweetness. A cup of freshly brewed cappuccino awaits me, its steam rising gently, the warm liquid gliding down my throat tasting heavenly upon my lips with every sip. Every second of indulging in my breakfast is a moment of bliss.
