iThink #52: A flashback while waiting for the engineer
The view from the roof deck. February 18, 2022
I can't remember exactly when it happened, but sometime between 2023 and 2024, I snuck inside the condominium where I had bought my unit.
I roamed around the lobby, walked past the grass patches, and stood in front of my door. I reached for the doorknob, and, as expected, it was locked.
Looking around, I saw residents making their way in and out of the tower. I guess I was the only one who had not moved in yet. I let out a sigh, went back to the lobby, and watched people walk against a backdrop of browns and golds, greens and blues.
"This must be the life," I thought. "Will I ever get to it?"
Tears almost fell, if not for the gentle breeze flowing through the place.
The tower where my unit is. May 25, 2026
Two or three years later, Iโm back here.
No more sneaking in, though.
This time, I have a formal appointment with the people running the condominium. I'm seated alone on a curved brown rattan chair, facing the same brown-and-gold ceiling and wall posts. Farther ahead is the blue pool, surrounded by greenery.
The stream of people has never gone away: babies in strollers, toddlers in swimming trunks, young adults with backpacks, others in sandos and shirts carrying bags of groceries, and older residents in T-shirts, jogging pants, and rubber shoes.
Lobby mirror selfie. May 25, 2026
This morning before the inspection, I walked around the area and made my way into the tower where my unit was. I went around to the back garden. I knew for sure the lone empty unit was mine. No air-conditioning unit. No clothes hung out to dry.
Maybe it is the excitement over the possibility of a new beginning. Maybe it is the anxiety over the mounting bills.
But no tears are fallingโฆ for now.
















