Living With Your Parents?

Let’s see here. I have some people asking me why do I still live with my parents. I’d give them the answer straight away, but it’s often not so easy when they ask you in a tone much similar like “Hey, didn’t you use my toilet last year and clogged it up with your massive amount of biological waste?”. When confronted with such tones of voice, you’ll try hard to give a plausible answer that doesn’t seem to make you look like a loser who’s sitting at the couch all day long without paying any rent to your parents. And that’s is where the person asking you the question will raise one of his eyebrow at you and smile sarcastically, thinking that you’re a loser who’s sitting at the couch all day long without paying any rent to your parents.

I don’t know why I’m still with my parents. It’s been a year and a half since I started working, and it’s not that I’m not looking for a place. And my parents don’t want me to go rent out some place somewhere. If I was to move out, I gotta be BUYING that place, not renting it. OR my job takes me far away from Klang that it would not be economically feasible to travel up and down that I need to get a place closer to that fictional place of work. Truth be told, I wasn’t so keen on it in the beginning, but as time passed, I thought that was the best bet.

Come on now. With the rising costs of living, it’s gonna be hard to be forking out a third of my salary for rent and living expense. I mean, I’m already spending a lot for my car (loan repayments and petrol), and where am I gonna get the extra cash to save up to get my own place in the future? The savior of the Indian race gonna give me some allowance every month to save up for a house, or an apartment even? Shit, I ain’t getting no 10% “sons of the soil” discount, that’s for sure. I’m being practical here. 

Plus, mom cooks some really good food. My body size is a testament to that. Mom always brings up the “Where would you go to eat? What would you do for good food?” dialogue whenever I moot the idea of moving out. Errr, maybe eating a little less would actually do me SOME good, I guess. Don’t blame me. She cooks so damn well that it’s hard not to yearn for a larger helping. And my dad, well, actually dad never opposed to the idea of moving out. He just pulls the “I trust you’ll judge well. Don’t live to regret your decision” dialogue. That’s even worse than anything. It makes you cringe and gets you so worked up that you’ll end up thinking “What the fuck did I just wanted to do? Damn…. I nearly made a bad decision and made myself bankrupt.”

It’s all about the moolah nowadays. No money, no talk. Not even a fucking whisper, I tell ya. We need to save a lot of money. We’re not talking RM 100 per month. With that, you’ll be able to afford the downpayment for your single storey terrace in about 10 years or so. Provided that you don’t knock up some chick and have a baby, or get knocked up and have a baby. The true measure of success is when you have enough money to save in your little piggy bank AFTER deducting all your monthly expenditures. Sadly, in today’s world, that like asking Malaysian politicians to become honest after a 2 hour motivational talk. It just ain’t gonna happen. Well, anytime soon that is.

So. let’s just wait and see. After all, I’m only 24. And I’m gunning for an apartment with a balcony. Not some double-storey gigantor house which will take me probably 3 months to just clean the stairs. Apartments are more classy. Suits my taste. What about you guys?