Today I woke up already feeling like I was running, and by the time the clock struck six, my husband and I were on the road to the airport. Our eldest was flying to Lampung for a campus field trip for 4 days that morning.
From the airport, we drove straight to the dorm to pick up our youngest. Just like that, the three of us were complete again, even if only until the next errand called us away. We went home for a short breather, that kind of pause where your body feels still but your mind is already planning the next thing.
By eleven, we were back on the move, heading to one of our properties in South Jakarta. The main agenda of the day was simple on paper. Key handover from an outgoing tenant, then supervising Cleansheet rangers to prepare the house for the next person moving in tomorrow. In reality, of course, nothing ever stays simple.
We arrived at noon and immediately ordered our favorite sate to be delivered, because cleaning days deserve good food. The rain arrived right on cue, one of those loud, dramatic downpours that made the whole neighborhood blur behind the water. Good thing the sate had arrived before the sky cracked open. Even our coffee delivery couldn’t make it through the storm on time.
While waiting for the cleaning team, the three of us worked in harmony, each taking our own corner of the house. My husband tackled the fridge, scrubbing it clean with quiet determination. My youngest rearranged the kitchen and dining tools with that mix of focus and creativity only teenagers have. I floated around doing a bit of everything. Laundry, doormats, whatever needed hands, I lent mine.
At two, the Cleansheet rangers finally arrived, drenched but experienced enough that their presence alone made me a bit relax. They knew what to do without needing us to point at every corner. At three, the outgoing tenant showed up with the physical key. We chatted while she waited for her husband to pick her up, rain still dripping from the leaves outside.
By five, the house was spotless, the kind of clean that makes you inhale a little deeper. My daughter and I rushed to shower, while my husband decided to eat first so he wouldn’t have to eat while driving. Thus, he didn't have enough time to take a bath. I ended up eating in the car as we drove off to Grand Indonesia.
We reached CGV just in time for Wicked: For Good, the film starting the moment we found our seats in the 4D studio. And oh, it was worth every rupiah. All the shaking seats and bursts of air and tiny sparks of magic made me forget how tired I was. For two hours, I let the world blur away.
After the movie, we grabbed supper at the food court. I had my favorite Afung bakso, slurping warmth back into my system, while my husband and daughter shared some kind of kebab or whatever, I still don’t remember what it was called.
On the way home, we got lost because my husband instinctively drove toward BSD instead of remembering we were sleeping at the Jakarta house tonight. We laughed about it, because at that point, why not. The day had been chaotic already; one more twist just made it feel complete.
When we finally reached home, exhaustion hit me like a wave. The kind that wraps around your shoulders and sinks into your bones. I collapsed into bed with the satisfying heaviness that only comes after a long, full day.
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