DOMS PAGLIAWAN

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been a big fan of water. It’s versatile, it’s refreshing, and it makes up about 70% of me – which is a good thing, considering my undeniable charm. But lately, water has been playing hard to get to many of us. It’s like the popular kid at school who suddenly decides to skip class, leaving all of us parched and longing.

Now, I’m not one to panic, but when the water taps started coughing up air instead of water, I did have a moment of existential crisis. I mean, how was I supposed to water my plastic plants? They may not need actual water, but they deserve to feel included.

And let’s not get started on the showers. The water pressure has been so low that I’ve had to resort to the ‘bucket and dipper’ method, making my showers feel like a low-budget water park ride. I’ve developed muscles I didn’t know existed from heaving buckets of water over my head. Who would have thought the water crisis would turn my bathroom into a makeshift gym?

Then there’s the issue of hydration. They say, “Drink at least eight glasses of water a day.” But they didn’t tell us what to do when there was barely enough water to fill one glass. I guess we’re all on an involuntary water diet. On the bright side, I’ve never appreciated the taste of water more. Each sip feels like winning the lottery.

But let’s not forget the elephants in the room – or rather, the dishes in the sink. They’ve started forming a mountain range, reaching new heights every day. If this continues, I might have to hire a professional climber to conquer Mount Dirty Dishes. You know, I’m not used to eating on unwashed plates, what about you? (Just kidding)

Picture this: you wake up to the sound of your stomach growling and your throat as dry as the Sahara. You stumble to the kitchen, half-asleep, only to find the faucet coughing up a feeble dribble of water reminiscent of a parched cactus. Cue the dramatic music – it’s the start of another day in the water-deprived Wild West.

As you scramble to ration your precious drops, you start to appreciate the little things in life – like the refreshing sensation of a cold shower or the simple joy of flushing the toilet without performing a rain dance. You find yourself eyeing your houseplants with envy, wondering if they’re secretly mocking your water woes with their lush greenery.

In all seriousness, though, the water crisis many of us are experiencing is no laughing matter. It’s a pressing issue that needs immediate attention and action. But while we wait for solutions, let’s just resort to finding humor in the situation. After all, they say laughter is the best medicine. And in times like these, it might just be the best way to stay afloat.

So, as we journey through this watery wilderness together, let’s remember to keep our spirits buoyant and our sense of humor intact. After all, laughter may not quench our thirst, but it sure beats crying into an empty glass. Cheers to surviving the great thirst – may your cups runneth over with laughter and your faucets flow freely once more!