An hour ago, I snacked out with my friends at work. Heading back to the building where our office is situated, a red Mazda MX-5 Miata with black canvas-like top zoomed past me. As my eyes trailed it down the road, hopes and dreams of yesterday flashed back.
Call me anything but nobody can argue with my thriftiness. When I was still a single woman, my salary from work and Christmas bonuses went straight to my time deposit. I am not into extravagant shopping. I can count with my fingers the luxurious items which I bought for myself – a pair of Lacoste sneakers, a Sony Ericsson mobile phone, three bottles of my favorite perfume brands(Happy, Issey Meyaki and Gucci), and a Gucci bag. That’s all I have purchased in 10 years of hard work.
I never cared for signature clothes. I was dead serious in saving as much money to be able to buy my dream car since it was around $12,000 in 2004. That Mazda. That MX-5 Miata. Specifically the red one. I didn’t care about other material wealth available on earth for it’s only that car my heart, my mind and my eyes desire.
Then I got married but it didn’t stop me from saving more money. My husband and I enjoy life’s simple pleasures and treats, it doesn’t take or cost much to build a happy home.
Giving birth in 2006, however, is what changed some portions of my agenda because the amount of cash that we had to shell out to provide all the needs of our sweet angel was not a joke. But then again, why worry when both my husband and I have jobs. Perhaps, I could still continue saving for my future car I thought. I figured, taking on extra writing jobs is a good idea since PR writing offers a superb deal.
Unfortunately, I reached the dead end. After giving birth, my husband and I had a hard time looking for a nanny. The schedule of my maternity leave came to an end and still no nanny for our baby so we were left with the question: “Who’s staying home to take care of her?” Of course, I volunteered since I am the woman (feminists, not here. Let’s discuss your advocacy later in a different subject. This one’s for MX-5). Three months of being a plain housewife and hands-on mom made me resign to the fact that THE car wasn’t designed for me since day one. It was intended for somebody else. Somebody who can afford it.
As I now think of what could have been my car, I realized the only spectacular thing about it is its bloody red hue and speed but my daughter is worth a lot more. She makes me want to be a better person every single day and to excel in whatever endeavor I get myself into. Apart from her physical beauty, she possesses the kind of charm and sweetness that I never saw in that MX-5.
Looking at her and her intelligent ways, I predict she’s going to be big somebody and she’s going to drive a vehicle far more gorgeous than the MX-5. The latter would even be ashamed to be seen next to it. When that time comes, the Mazda MX-5 Miata would be a thing of the past.