Of all the things I am most lazy about it's buying clothes. I hate it. I hate shopping. I hate picking shirts and most specially pants, going to the fitting room, undressing, and putting them on. Then going out to get more sizes. I abhor it. Next only to going for a hair cut, dental prophylaxis, and other grooming necessities. There are so many fucking requirements to look like a person that sometimes I just want to give up. Back in the college and med school when my parents would subsidize me clothes would just miraculously appear in my closet which I would wear until they are worn out.
Upon entering private practice though I was told in no uncertain terms that I should no longer wear my favorite Batman and X-Files t-shirts. I should look professional, they said. I should look like someone people would be willing to pay when they consult or undergo kikimo. Trifles, trifles. But sometimes we have to stop living in our proverbial UP Diliman campus and get rid of anything tie-dyed or denim.
So a few weeks ago I've decided to schedule days to buy all the material things "needed" to look like a person. I just have these other issues when buying material things other than being from pure laziness--after years of living off ten pesos per day during hellowship I have been content with window shopping, pinching pennies and sealing them off with an imaginary adhesive in my wallet like an old man who survived World War II and the Depression. I also think buying material stuff is very un-Christian-- chalk it up to my being brought up by nuns in a Catholic school where "charity is chastity" or something. And of course, as I always tell Hellize, Smoketh, Frichmond, and Henj to the point of karindihan, I need to save because I never know when I'll be needing expensive chemo.
Good thing some of my patients specially those I don't singil give me clothes for gifts. Most of the time they don't fit, and of course I'm too lazy to go to the mall to have them exchanged. I usually ask my mother or my sister to do that task for me. A few days ago I got a tight-fitting t-shirt for a gift, the kind that not only fails to hide the flabs and the man-boobs but actually flaunts them. After going to the store for the exchange my mom and sister exclaimed:
"Anak ang mahal pala ng t-shirt na yan dalawang libo! Kaya lang wala kaming makitang magugustuhan mo na kapalit.... kaya ipinalit na lang namin ng blouse, isa sakin isa sa ate mo."
Happy to have shared the love!