Had a pounding, Swedish-combination massage last night, and it wrung my body dry of the creepy December chill, having had to pay bigger real estate taxes than usual, interacting with Cynthia's relatives at her funeral wake, and hearing news of acquaintances who also died simply because they couldn't take anything else anymore.
M. sat watching a movie on Netflix while I was having the massage. I gave the masseur a packed dinner of chicken sisig, rice, and Mountain Dew after.
The fresh buko vendor and his wife buzzed by expectantly, but I didn't buy anything this morning because our ref is full to the brim.
Four days to the New Year and I feel that the year will end with many, loose ends.
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