Adonis Diaries

I love to sleep. And I can’t sleep. And I live with my elder parents

Apparently, I might be looking as old as my dad. Strangers would politely ask me when I visit my father in the intensive care unit: “Are you his brother?”

About time to have my hair and my dangling mustaches dyed black. A small price to pay and effort to invest in, if it saves me from the obnoxious question “Are you his brother?”

And yet, I feel fine, not a single ounce of fat, don’t take medication, not even aspirin, and have no aches or pains in my body… and exercise, and work the garden, and walk… And I’m not in intensive care…

By 5 am, it is cooler this summer and I fall asleep. Only to be awakened at 6 am by the warning alarm of the oxygen machine, which dad uses, because the power went off: Time to go down and switch the interrupter to the private provider. This alarm goes off several times a day, and twice at night. Actually, I don’t go to bed until way after midnight, simply waiting for the schedule of switching off the interrupter.

I am exhausted from this long night, barely snoozing, due to dad’s frequent visits to the restroom because of a “small bladder“, and mother yawning loudly all night long for not being able to sleep, and myself visiting the restroom twice a night “Tel pere tel fils” in matter of bladder size.

Add to these frustrating situations the problem of controlling the mosquitoes. Mosquitoes have always a way to enter my net, a net nicely tucked and thoroughly mended for holes as tiny as mosquitoes size…

I have no proofs of the conditions of the mosquitoes that I swapped with a small towel, trapped in the net: partially dead or simply stunned and ready for another round of buzzing activities…

It is after I wake up that I investigate the scene of the slaughter and carnage: disemboweled mosquitoes, drained of their blood, or plainly dead, cleanly…

I am exhausted and refuse to go down at 6 am: problems have ways to resolve themselves if you don’t wake up.

By 8:30 am, mother is making noises, on purpose, to wake me up “The day is almost over, and he is sleeping like babies...”

And mother complaining “What am I to cook for you guys today? I have nothing in the pantry or in the fridge…” She has in mind “How may I feed 11 persons with various tastes and constraints on onion, ail, salt, cholesterol…”

My 85 year old mother thinks that it is still her responsibilities to cater for her married children and her married grand kids, while taking care of my ailing dad who requires constant attention…

I have to keep an eye on mother, particularly as she undertake her multitasking in the kitchen: burning the cooking pots, and I making sure that all the gas burners are off, and shutting off the gas bonbone when not cooking, … Actually mother suffered 3rd degree burns on her arms a year ago, and she had to be treated for 6 months. Mother lacks the sense of “hot utensils” in her fingers.

I don’t mind doing the dishes, as long as mother promises not to sweep the courtyard and the garden and then complaining of back aches, dizziness, shoulder ache…

It is not a matter of promising me anything at all. If I do the dishes at night, you can bet that in the morning mother is concocting harder chores for me for the maintenance of the house. So, why do dishes? I have to do the dishes in the cold seasons: Mother’s fingers are numb and senseless, and the cold aggravate her arthritic condition…

Mother is the kind who has to keep working from 6 am till 8 pm, with a couple of hours for a deserved siesta, regardless of how much in pain she feels. And she works non-stop, and cannot take breaks, unless she is feeling dizzy. The worst condition for mother is Boredom: it is the plaque and the ultimate source of all sins…

The trouble is, when it is time to go to bed, mother cannot sleep: She has to recall all the departed relatives, forecast the harsh future for every member of the extended family… and because of the frequent visits of dad to the WC (about 100 times per day)

It is dad that I’m suppose to worry about, but it is this activity hysterics woman that Keeps me on my toes.

I started to love the winter season”

1. There are no mosquitoes

2. My parents spend their time in beds or sofas

3. I got to enjoy thoroughly my siesta. I can “nap” for two or three hours and dream. The best time of the day, and of the winter season…

The major drawback of winter is that dad refuses to get up from bed and venture to the restroom. And It is my disheartening job to keep dad clean.

We do have a central heating system. We cannot afford the mazout to heat up the system. If we could afford to heat a few main rooms for just an hour before going to bed… At least we could wash our faces in the morning with lukewarm water…

And I live with my elder parents.

I don’t have a money generating job: Lack of job openings? Lack of opportunities? Age discrimination? Hating a 8-hour jobs? Hate to drive two hours just to go to work in the worst driving conditions? Can no longer wake up with the chicken?

And most importantly, I lack skills, talents in any manual activities, artistic jobs… not a single skill to make any kinds of money, not even a dime… All these years of education and higher studies in universities, and no skills that may satisfy an employer...

And I tried all the minimum wage jobs: You name it, I did it. It is like my decisions are binary: either I focus on becoming a billionaire or living not a dollar in my pocket. I am still apprehensive of making too much money: I don’t know how handle money and all the rules and regulations that accompany people with plenty of money… and the lawsuits… and the inheritance… and the bugging of people wanting to borrow money…

I am same and different from this 28 year-old boy living in the basement of his parent’s and not finding any job opportunities… But this is another story, and another post.