Guilt & relief, conscience VS justice

I’m struggling to deal with so many emotions right now, but my brain just can’t seem to process my thoughts and experiences properly. I don’t even know where to start, all I know is that I need some place to vent and release my frustrations. Since I have no one suitable to talk to in real life, I found myself jumping onto the computer, furiously typing away. Everything appears to be a huge jumbled up mess and I’m not even sure how I got myself here in the first place.

I have to get this off my chest. I called the police on my maid yesterday. I picked up the phone, and before I could stop myself, dialled “999″, told them my situation & address, and within 15 minutes they were knocking on my door. And just like that, after three hours of taking statements, photos of physical evidence and a total of 8 different officers and investigators going in & out my house.. they took her away in handcuffs. I still cannot get that scene out of my head, I don’t think I will ever be able to, and it horrifies me that I would be the one to put someone else in that position.

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Some of you might already know that I have been dealing with maid woes for a long, long time. In a nutshell, my domestic helper annoying, defiant, dirty (like really unhygienic), incredibly lazy, a big liar to say the least.. since she’s been employed, shit always goes missing around the house (jewelry, money, even underwear)… Speaking of underwear, she was cleaning the floor one day and bended over wearing a low-cut pants so I accidentally saw that she was wearing MY La Senza underwear on her butt. Underwear thief!!!!!!! And jewelry? Well my mum has had a few expensive branded bags go missing for starters, and the Chanel necklace that Sam gave me for our anniversary also magically disappeared. That pissed me off a lot. It’s not even about the money. What I’m angry about is that the item has so much sentimental value, and yet it was just taken away from me like that, probably now sitting in some pawn shop some where. To think that I lived with the thief for months and months after that infuriates me. I’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg. I wonder why I let myself go through this torment.

So let me just give you a brief introduction about my maid.

My domestic helper, let’s call her Y*… Was employed 1 year plus ago, before Christmas time. When she first arrived, I thought she was lovely. I honestly did. I thought she was sweet, polite, and better than my previous few maids. I believe I even tweeted nice things about her when she first arrived. Unfortunately for us, that was only at the start, her attitude changed completely after a few months.

Now, they say most maids are only nasty towards their employers if you aren’t nice to them. Like if you overwork them, don’t feed them nice enough food or are rude to them, they will be very stubborn and rebellious. I’d like to think I have been nice to Y* from the start. Definitely not so much towards the end, I’ll have to admit,… but at the start, yes. Since her arrival was close to Christmas time, I invited her to hang up X’mas decorations with Sam & I. We hung ornaments on the X’mas tree together, and I respected her enough to change the placements of the way I hung my ornaments because she said it wasn’t nice. Now, this probably means absolutely nothing to a person reading this statement, but I believed that by respecting her opinion however insignificant it may seem, listening to what she has to say and inviting her to take part in family-orientated activities will make her feel less like a stranger and hopefully more like family. In return, I wanted her to do her work properly and be nice to my family & I. I didn’t want to live with a stranger, I had hoped to live with a maid I actually liked. I remember it was New Year’s Eve in 2010 and I didn’t want her to spend it counting down all alone at home (we were all going out) so I insisted on taking her along with us to view the fireworks at Marina Bay Sands. My family members were flabbergasted at why I’d want to take the maid out on New Year’s Eve but when I saw the smile on her face as she gazed up into the night sky in awe of the fireworks, I thought to myself, “it’s worth it.” Worth the taunting and eyeball rolling I had to endure from my family. Since I was a little girl, I’ve had many many different maids, more than I can count on my fingers. I’ve had great, good, bad and horrible. I certainly never thought this one would go so wrong.

Don’t ask me when, how, or why… But along the way, after a coupla months, Y* just respected us less & less. The way she talked to us was less polite, and she tried less often to please. Eventually she just became downright bloody fucking annoying, for example, asking question every single question twice (on purpose).


Case Study 1:

Me: “Can you pour me a cup of orange juice please?”

Y*: “With ice, or without?”

Me: “No ice.”

Y*: “Ice ah??”

FFFFFFF. -_-


Case Study 2:

Me: “Hey, we are going to make dinner, chop some garlic.”

Y*: “Onions also?”

Me: “No, just chop garlic will do.”

Y*: “So garlic only ah??? You don’t want onions ah???”

OMFG!! I know it sound so insignificant but try living with somebody so retarded that they ask you EVERY question twice, on purpose. To have to repeat yourself over and over is no fun. I’ve already told her, “Don’t ask me questions twice! Just listen when I tell you the first time” but she doesn’t care. At first I thought she was just being meticulous, like she wanted to make sure she doesn’t do the wrong thing.. which is fair enough, because a careful & annoying maid is better than a careless maid who could care less.

But after asking if I’d like some onions with my garlic and me saying no, she will STILL chop some motherfucking onions!!!!!!!!! I SAID NO RIGHT. T_T Or, worse, she will chop only onions, no garlic like I had originally asked for. I’m pretty sure she’s not deaf, she hears me fine, but chooses to go against me just for the heck of it. Wtf is wrong with people like that? Take note that I am not talking about individual, unique or isolated incidents. She does wayyy more annoying things everyday but if I told you all the examples this post would 20k words long.

Being annoying, is something difficult to swallow, but I can still handle. You don’t call the police on someone for being annoying. Besides being annoying, another star quality about her is also being lazy.
For people who have had enough maids, might’ve noticed that a lot of them will get quite lazy sooner or later (which I sort of understand) the real question is – to what extent?


Case Study 3:

Me: “Hey, can you cling wrap this cake (a cake fresh out of the oven) for me? I’m rushing to go out now and will not get back till late at night and I will need to decorate it later.”

Y*: “Ok! Bye!”

Me: *goes out….. comes home 5 hours later, and sees the cake on the table…*

The cake was PATHETICALLY cling wrapped.. in fact I wouldn’t even call it being cling wrapped. There’s a piece of flimsy cling wrap carelessly placed on the top (barely enough to stretch over to the sides) and the sides and underneath are completely exposed. That’s like asking a person to put the cake in a box, but they put a piece of cardboard on the top of the cake instead. WTF?

I was so angry because the fresh out of the oven cake that was still moist & fluffy is now hard and crusty and dry because it’s been exposed to the air conditioned room for so long and all the moisture is all sucked out of it. Now, it needs to be baked again, and I’m running very short on time because the customer is coming to collect it soon, and if I can’t finish it on time, I’m screwed. So I have 2 choices, give the customer a dry and crusty cake or risk not finishing on time and making the customer angry. I chose the latter, thankfully the customer arrived late as well.

All of this could’ve been prevented if she could be arsed to cling wrap it properly, but no!!! She just can’t. She has really taught me the strict lesson of “If you want something done, do it yourself” because she just can’t seem to get anything right. Now you can argue and say “why didn’t you cling wrap it yourself?” but to that I say fuck you. That’s as good as saying, “why don’t you do the housework yourself?” I’m paying the maid a monthly salary and providing her food & accommodation, do I not have the right to ask her to cling wrap something for me? Sigh. Little did I know she can’t even complete a simple task like that. She knows perfectly well how important it is to keep the cakes cling wrapped (we do it all the time and show it to her) but she just cannot be bothered. When I confronted her about the poorly cling wrapped cake, she sulks, then looks at me and go, “I wrap! I wrap already!!! What is this plastic on the cake if I never wrap?” …#holyshitsomebodypassmeagun

Laziness aside, sometimes I think she’s pure evil, because NOBODY could be this evil.

I was going to cook one day, when I saw that a whole lot of ants had gotten into my salt/sugar cooking jar, as it wasn’t properly sealed. I didn’t reprimand her for not storing the kitchen supplies properly (could’ve been prevented if it was shut tight, but I thought, ah heck honest mistake) so I handed the jar to her and said, “Hey, clean this, there’s ants all over it and even crawling around INSIDE it, look!” and she took it off my hands. I forget about the jar, and didn’t check to see if she did clean it or not.

A few hours later, I return to the kitchen to cook a meal. So here I am, fussing over my frying pan, cooking up a storm… she stands beside me, and then I ask, “Hey, can you pass me some sugar?” and she hands me the very same salt/sugar jar I gave her to wash before, still full of sugar/salt, but without the ants. I noticed that the amount was exactly the same as before, except this time, the jar wasn’t filled with ants. It didn’t necessarily look any cleaner.


Case Study 4:

I raise an eyebrow, and questioned, “Did you clean this?”

Y*: “Yess!!! Yes I did!! *defiant tone*”

Me: “I’M ASKING YOU. *raises voice* Did you clean this jar? Did you pour out all the salt / sugar, wash it with soap and water to get rid of the ants, or did you just clean the outside and scoop out the parts that had ants in it? HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?!?!?”

Y*: “I clean what….. You never say to throw away.. *sulks even more with a pouty face*” (hate her sulky face, she never apologizes, just sulks like fuck)

OMG. She was going to give me ants-infested salt & sugar to use in my cooking for food that I was going to feed my family with!!!! She probably just swiped the ants away with her hands and dug out the rest burrowed in salt / sugar and then confidently handed me the jar to use. I cannot imagine how evil or heartless she can be. Has she no conscience? This has way passed the stage of stupidity or laziness. This is a lack of a  conscience. I was absolutely disgusted, but not surprised.

Unconvinced?  (sorry I just need to rant some more ok)

Case Study 5:

Me: “Hey, defrost the minced pork in the fridge please, I’m going to cook dinner.”

Y:* “Okay.”

I return to the kitchen half an hour later, ready to cook.

Me: “Minced pork defrosted already?”

Y* “Ya, ya… *hands me a bowl full of meat*

I hastily marinate the meat, as my grandmother is hungry and I’m making her dinner. She cannot eat too late because she will have gastric or problems digesting her food so I need to hurry up. I heat up my frying pan. I start to cook the “pork”. As it is cooking, I get a whiff the aroma, and frown. Hmm… something’s not right. This doesn’t smell like pork. What is this???

Me: “Is this pork??? Why does it smell and look like beef?” (you can only tell when it’s being cooked otherwise looks the same.. just minced)

Y*: “You said beef what. *rolls eyes*”

Me: “WHAT THE FUCK? (I literally said this out loud lol) I said minced pork!! I said pork, and you said ok! Why you didn’t tell me it was beef, only until after I fry it, then you say it’s beef?!”

Y*: “I hear you say beef. There is n-no.. no pork in the fridge ok.” I can tell she is lying, because she’s flustered and stuttering. She always stutters when she lies.

By this time my blood is boiling. I stomp over to the fridge, open the freezer compartment, and the first thing that I see is a packet of minced pork that has a label that says “minced pork – 250g” and a stupid damn cartoon flying PIG plastered on the packet staring back at me.

Me: *waving the packet of minced pork around in the air like a mad woman* “WHAT IS THIS??? Pork right?”

She replies, “Ya, but I didn’t see it, really! Just now it wasn’t there. If I see, I give it to you! Really!!!”

I’ll tell you why I am so angry. It is not because I don’t get to eat minced pork, but minced beef instead. No no no, this is not a #firstworldproblem or a #gluttonproblem. My problem is, the beef packet was actually UNDERNEATH the pork packet, so she must have took a look at the pork, then realized there was beef and gave that to me instead, hoping I will not notice.. it does look the same, after all. I know she wouldn’t know this, but it doesn’t taste the same.. at ALL. Why would she do that? She’s Muslim, she can’t eat pork. If I cook beef, at least she can eat it. That is how selfish she is. She is super lazy, and the only thing she cooks for herself is maggi mee or fried rice, she never cooks even when I give her full permission to use my groceries to feed herself.

Besides her selfishness, I was so upset because my GRANDMOTHER cannot eat beef due to religious beliefs as well. It so happened I was making one of her favorite dishes for her dinner, vegetables with minced pork, but now she doesn’t get to eat that despite hungrily waiting for me. I have to leave her disappointed. I’ve already mixed the vegetables in with the beef, and to defrost a brand new packet of frozen minced pork would take too long. I had also intended to save the minced beef to make hamburgers for Sam the next day. Now everybody loses. I can confidently say it was no honest mistake by my maid. I know her inside out by now, all her evil tactics and scheming. I can tell when she’s lying, and when she’s not. So easy to read. Maybe after reading a few of these examples, out of the hundreds I’ve experienced, some of you may understand why I dislike her so much.

I have tried being nicer to her, in hopes that she will mend her ways, for example when my mother was overseas and couldn’t be around to give Y* her monthly salary on time, I offered to pay her out of my own pocket in advance so that she may enjoy her upcoming day off (she gets once or twice a month)

Instead of being grateful, she was meant to make breakfast for my grandmother in the morning – she didn’t, just rushed out of the house. Was meant to be home by 6:30pm, came home at 7 plus instead. LATE + didn’t do her job, and didn’t even say sorry for being late or thank you for helping me advance my pay. What kind of ingrate is she, you tell me??? How to be nice to somebody like this?

Eventually, I gave up hope on her, and realized some people are just #bornthisway. YOU CANNOT FIX OR HELP THEM. Your kind actions will only be backfired.

I’ll give you one final case study, that happened yesterday…  leading to the climax of this situation.


Case Study 6:

Yesterday, my friend N came over to the house to hang out. At about 3:30pm, we decided to go out for lunch, and as I was getting changed, N went downstairs to get his car out of the carpark and waited for me at the lobby. I looked in my handbag. There was $280 in cash. Not wanting to bring so much cash out, I took $10 and my card, then left the house. So there was $270 left in my bag.

I went downstairs and got into N’s car. I suddenly realize I’d left something else in my handbag that I forgot to bring down. I ring the maid Y*, to bring down my handbag for me. Knowing she has a history of stealing stuff, I was kind of worried she might take my money again. BUT, I told myself, if she does, I will call the police this time. I have been so damn tolerant and forgiving towards her. But I was not in the mood to be fucked with (I was having my period, so FHL also, sometimes I will just say “forget it” but not today).. I wouldn’t ask her to bring down my handbag if I didn’t need something in it – surely she knows this and is smart enough to refrain from stealing this time? If she steals money that I left on the table and totally forgot about, I CAN understand her reasoning. But this time, it’s something I’m completely aware of, I use that handbag everyday, and I was requesting for it’s presence. Surely she is not that daring.

She came down with my handbag after 5 whole minutes. She hands it to me. She hastily goes back up. I start to count my money.

$210 left.

WHAT.

*counts again, and again, and again…. looks at N with a bewildered look*

Yup. $210.

A fifty dollar note, and a ten dollar note, a total amounting to $60 went missing.

FUCK FUCK FUCKITTY FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! No, this can’t be. No, that bitch had better not touch my money, KNNBCCB! I ran out of N’s car, and went upstairs to my house. I was totally overcome with anger, because this time, I’M SO SURE.

Other times when I lose my money, or when I lose my clothes / necklaces, I can’t remember the exact details, like the last time I’d seen it or where I’d placed my purse… and I dare not make a police report against her because I NEED to be really sure before doing something so drastic. This time, I was really fucking sure. It was just minutes ago that I was upstairs in my room counting my money. There was no one else in the house except my old grandmother and brother who was still sleeping. They do not steal. Y* does.

Overcome with anger, I literally ran all the way from the car to the corridor to my house. I banged on the door, and when she opened the door, she looked at me. She knew. She knew that I knew what she did. I can tell by the look of fear in her eyes. She probably saw the fire in mine.

I said in a stern tone, “I know what you did. Give me back my money NOW, or I will call the police. If you just admit your mistake and give me the money, I will forgive you. But if you don’t, I’ll call the police right now.”

Y*: “Money? I never take your money!!! I SWEAR!!!”

She then starts to shout back…. and then swears more… then challenges me. “OK LA, YOU CALL THE POLICE! I NOT SCARED, I NEVER DO ANYTHING WRONG.”

I didn’t think I’d do it myself, but I picked up the phone and dialled 999. An operator answers. I ask, “what happens if I suspect my maid has stolen money? can I ask for assistance?” ….Within 15 minutes, police officers were ringing my door bell.

And the rest was history. I’m not sure if it’s legal for me to reveal exactly what happened between the police, Y* and I, but after 3 hours + of investigation, she was brought away in handcuffs in a police car. She never once appeared to be remorseful, or apologetic. She was so cocky.

So cocky, in fact, that she challenged the police: “Why don’t you search and question N as well? He was also in the house!” Because N was already downstairs by the time I last checked my money, you evil witch!!! How dare you try and get my friend into trouble to save your sorry ass?!?…. At first, all I felt was anger, then after I calmed down, what I felt was sadness. I felt really sad for her when I saw them flipping through her stuff and questioning her and then finally handcuffing her before my very eyes. That moment was completely shocking to me. I knew that criminals deserve to be handcuffed and be put away, especially when they take me for a sucker AGAIN AND AGAIN, but I still felt awful inside. I do hate her in so many ways and have actually WISHED for this very moment many times before, but to see it happen…. also didn’t feel right. I wish someone else had made the police report instead, I wish someone else had their things stolen, so that I wouldn’t have to be the one feeling all the guilt, but I could still see justice being served. I guess in this way, I’m also quite naive and stupid. I’d like to think I’m not a cold-hearted person. I don’t like to see people in misery, and she was in handcuffs right then.

“Jessica, you crazy ah? If you didn’t want her in handcuffs or in jail, why did you call the police?”

I felt so crippled with guilt at night that I could barely sleep. Tossed and turned all of last night. I couldn’t decide if my conscience, or sense of righteousness has gotten the better of me. Sure, she’s been making my life a living hell since the first few months she’s lived here, and probably deserves to rot away in jail for all that she’s done… but when all is said and done, she still has lived in the same house as my family and I for over a year. As much as I dislike her, there’s some parts of her that I do not totally hate.

Think of it as living with a pet that is really naughty and made your life more difficult than enjoyable.

You pay for the damn thing, hoping it will be a good addition to your life. It’s not exactly necessary, but you figured the benefits it is meant to bring would be worth it rather than living on your own. At the start, your little puppy is fluffy and cute. But after a few months, it’s less cute, it grows up and is less intimidated by you, then starts to pee and shit everywhere. It rips up your clothes and furniture. You try to be nicer to it, hoping it will love you in return, but all it does is be a complete brat. It’s uncontrollable. You start to question your decision of ever bringing it home in the first place and ask god what have you ever done to deserve this sort of company when all you ever wanted was someone (something) nice to live with. Eventually, you give up hope, as no amount of training or disciplining worked, and you resign to your fate. One day, you find it chewing up your favorite expensive dress. Horrified, you tried to give it a second chance but it bit you as you tried to tear it away from the dress. You get so effin’ angry in the heat of the moment, you decide to give it away immediately.

After all the grief your dog from hell provided you, would you still feel sad when it’s time to let go? Yes, you would. A tinge of guilt, like “perhaps I wasn’t a good enough owner”.. If you had a heart. Because no matter what, time spent together still creates a bond, no matter how faint. (Btw I am in no way saying she’s a dog, just using the pet theory as an example for people who don’t have maids and don’t know what this would feel like)

I’ve said a lot of horrible things about her. But there are a few times she’s done nice things for me. Give credit where credit is due. She’s not a completely evil person. Yes, horrid and evil sometimes, but not to the core, not 100%. She has her moments. Like when she makes dessert and food without us asking her to then excitedly offering it to us, hoping for our approval. Like when she helps me out with my cake work, I really appreciate that. Like when she tries to be patient with my grandmother.. not a lot of people can handle the elderly well. She has made me laugh, and tried cheering me up some times when I have fights with Sam. I will not forget those times. So, I feel sorry for that part of Y*. The small nice part I’d like to believe exists somewhere inside her, that was much more evident the first week she came to live with this family. It may have decayed during the past year, but hopefully it’s not wiped out. When a serial murderer gets caught and thrown in jail, everyone rejoices. But she’s not a serial murderer. Yes, she stole my money, clothes, underwear, and did so many bad things…. but I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to see her in jail. That would really suck for her. I don’t want anything on my conscience.

After they took her away, I had a lot of time to reflect upon my actions, and hers.

Long story short, I decided not to pursue the matter anymore, and after she spent a night being locked up and interrogated, I bailed her out today. Immediately, I bought her a ticket home. Barely a few hours ago, her agent took her, and left. She’s probably in Indonesia by now. As she was packing her things, I felt sad, but glad that she didn’t need to go to jail. At least, not because of me. My mum told me last night, “We’re all humans, we don’t have to make her so miserable the way she makes us.” And I agree. I should be better than that. I hope the police incident and being handcuffed and locked up was enough to scare her from ever stealing from other people again. I really do hope she changes for the better, and does more good with her life, wherever she may choose to go. She looked relieved (duh) to be released and being able to go home, but what pissed me off was how she still insisted, “I didn’t steal your money.”

(You: Jess, is there any chance she didn’t do it? 

Me: NO. Please. Nobody should even try to defend her, because you all haven’t met her. You will never understand wtf she put my whole family through.)

I replied, “You don’t have to say anything any more. Even if you didn’t steal my money this time, you dare say you’ve never EVER stolen my money before? All the things you have done, you know deep down in your heart, and I do too. That’s enough. I hope you’re nicer to people you meet next time. Be a good person.” She smiled at me. I can’t remember if I managed a smile back. For the first time, she actually looked happy. She wasn’t scowling, or sulking like she does every single day for the past year… Somehow I also felt happy for her, and for myself, that both our miseries were coming to an end. I don’t think she liked working for us either. We both deserve better than this.

I am no longer angry. I just have so much sorrow. And I’m confused, because what was rage and anger then guilt, now turned straight into pity and empathy. I can barely copy with all these emotions….. I tried to put myself in her shoes. I don’t know what it’s like to be poor. I have known envy, but never the spiteful envy or the heavy desperation enough to drive me to steal from other people. Perhaps she sees all the nice things I have, and thinks I don’t deserve to be leading a better life than her. And in some ways, I guess I don’t. Where you’re born and which family you’re born into is luck of the draw, life’s sick lottery. The world is not fair. I was born into an easier life, and I don’t have to work in another country to support my family back home. This is a painful reminder I sometimes forget. I’m sure she has her own set of problems to deal with that causes her to behave the way she does.

As she was leaving my house for the final time, she told all of us, “I’m really sorry if I had done anything wrong to you guys. Thank you for having me here.” She even held my hand as she said it. It actually meant a lot to me that she said that. At least I knew she wasn’t angry at me for calling the police on her, and that, at the end of the day… she can leave on a relatively good note. I don’t want anyone hating me. I looked at her luggage and the clothes she was wearing and the bag she was carrying and realized that 90% of her belongings were in good condition, and they were clothes that I had given her. They were not the scraps she had worn when she first entered our home. A lot of the clothes I have given her are still brand new and unworn when she first received them. Despite knowing that she’s stolen from me before (underwear and money) I still gave her nice clothes. Because I knew I was not unkind to her and did quite the best that I could, that made me feel a lot better. I never starved her, I often cooked for her, I never deprived her of using her mobile phone, watching TV, going out on off days… I think I’ve been very reasonable. That’s good enough for me. I assure you, I don’t treat my maids horribly. Most of them have a much better life living in our household than in others. I treat them like proper human beings, not like slaves as some people do.

The agent proceeded to take her down the lift.

I stared into space for awhile, then chased after her. The agent and Y* were confused as to why I ran down, but I pretended I wanted to check her pockets for the last time, to see if she took anything she wasn’t meant to take. But the truth is, I just wanted to see her off. The last last maid (2 maids ago) I had was lovely to me, and I cried for a few days when she went home and I wasn’t able to say goodbye (I was overseas) and even though this one wasn’t anywhere near as lovely I wanted a proper goodbye anyway.

She waved to me, smiling, as the car drove away.

….And that was the end of a chapter in our lives. I came back up to my room, thought about things for awhile.. and burst into tears. I’m not sure why I’m so emotional. I wish all this never happened, to be honest. It’s a lot to handle. I think it’s also to do with the fact that I’m having my period, and it was so difficult going through this alone when my mother and Sam wasn’t in Singapore with me. I have to take care of my grandmother and my brother, I’m like in charge of the house and I have huge responsibilities on my shoulder. Now that everything is settled, I’m so relieved, but still very affected by what has happened. If I didn’t have N to go through this with me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.

My mother was very displeased with me for taking matters into my own hands and calling the police and making a scene by myself. She wanted me to wait till she got back from Australia so she could settle this, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Yes, perhaps I was rash, but things are better this way now. We argued a lot and I know she was worried & upset coz I got the police involved. Y*’s previous agent went MIA, so I had to locate her a new one…  that wasn’t easy to do. There was so much going on… that was one motherfucking helluva past 30+ hours I’ve had. A seriously messed up whirlwind I could’ve lived my life without going through. I can’t imagine that yesterday I caught her stealing, exploded, and by tonight she’s already back in Indonesia. Mind blowing. Why didn’t we send her back a long time ago???? Good fucking question. I’d tell you, but it’s personal & complicated, to do with her work permit, loans, etc. Grandmother story.

I hope I did the right thing. We’re going to be without a maid for awhile, but heck, people have lived this way for thousands of years, why can’t we?!?!?! I’ll be less spoilt this way, right? Whatever. We’ll get by.

I will miss you sometimes, Y*. But mostly, I won’t. It’s better this way. You don’t, however, just simply forget all about a person that lived with you for more than a year. I thank you for the times you’ve been good to my family, and fuck you very very much for all the grief you’ve caused. What goes around, comes around, I believe.

Oh, and good luck with whatever you choose to do next, and….. please, give them less hell than you did me.