consider this the future. and we are capable of travelling in time. let's jump to any point in the future to see the consistency of what's happening. then let's go back to the present (which is the past in reference to the future) and find out exactly where we started fucking things up. and fix it. so that this future would no longer happen.
this, i think, is the best solution.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
homecoming.
Have you ever felt that you have wasted your time on something that is, totally, not worth it?
Upfront, I’d be inclined to say that, yes, I have been wasting three years of my life now, here.
That my life has been reduced into a routine of forcing myself to wake up, going to work, praying that I would not be riding the lift with ‘the brothers’ or our CFO, tiptoeing inside our office so that my bosses won’t notice my three-hour consistent lateness, sitting around all day reading useless forwarded emails (from persons I swear I would include in my spam folder list one of these days), going home to rest and (on off-times) struggle to be civil to the rest of the world. And sleep. And the process repeats itself the next day.
Everyday, in between waking up and dragging myself to the bathroom, my constant thought would be of how I want to leave this place (fuck ‘em all), go back home to Naga, where I’ll be with the rest of my family.
But each time I see the thrilled look on my pamangkins’ faces each time I bring them pasalubong when I go home, my occasional shopping splurges for them each time I feel that what I have is more than enough for myself, their text messages, their excited screams each time I call, Blessy’s incessant “Auntie Che, darahan mo akong almonds,” my sister's medicines for which my job pays for, my siblings' pride each time they talk to their peers about me.
These things make it all worthwhile.
And I have just begun with my family.
Then there’s the measly amount for charity that I would not otherwise be able to spare, how the members of my childhood church were so delighted with my last anniversary contribution no matter how small it was. And other things and other people.
And for myself, there’s always so much to learn, despite my being bored most of the time. Despite my seeming incurable laziness, I appreciate the challenges that come with my work, the chance to prove to myself that I can be up there if I decide to. These things more than compensate for the occasional homesickness, my persistent back pains, the alcohol-inducing and alcohol-induced stress, and the sleepless nights and the job-related dreams when, eventually, I am able to sleep.
My nephew asked me yesterday as to when I plan to go home next. I said I don’t know.
But already my mind was making arrangements, budgeting my time, committing overtime for work, thinking up excuses to give my boss in case I overextend my stay in Naga. Well, really, I don’t know. But I am planning to call for ticket reservations in a while.
Come Sunday (or Monday), I’ll just have to remind myself again why I have to do this. Why I have to go back here.
Upfront, I’d be inclined to say that, yes, I have been wasting three years of my life now, here.
That my life has been reduced into a routine of forcing myself to wake up, going to work, praying that I would not be riding the lift with ‘the brothers’ or our CFO, tiptoeing inside our office so that my bosses won’t notice my three-hour consistent lateness, sitting around all day reading useless forwarded emails (from persons I swear I would include in my spam folder list one of these days), going home to rest and (on off-times) struggle to be civil to the rest of the world. And sleep. And the process repeats itself the next day.
Everyday, in between waking up and dragging myself to the bathroom, my constant thought would be of how I want to leave this place (fuck ‘em all), go back home to Naga, where I’ll be with the rest of my family.
But each time I see the thrilled look on my pamangkins’ faces each time I bring them pasalubong when I go home, my occasional shopping splurges for them each time I feel that what I have is more than enough for myself, their text messages, their excited screams each time I call, Blessy’s incessant “Auntie Che, darahan mo akong almonds,” my sister's medicines for which my job pays for, my siblings' pride each time they talk to their peers about me.
These things make it all worthwhile.
And I have just begun with my family.
Then there’s the measly amount for charity that I would not otherwise be able to spare, how the members of my childhood church were so delighted with my last anniversary contribution no matter how small it was. And other things and other people.
And for myself, there’s always so much to learn, despite my being bored most of the time. Despite my seeming incurable laziness, I appreciate the challenges that come with my work, the chance to prove to myself that I can be up there if I decide to. These things more than compensate for the occasional homesickness, my persistent back pains, the alcohol-inducing and alcohol-induced stress, and the sleepless nights and the job-related dreams when, eventually, I am able to sleep.
My nephew asked me yesterday as to when I plan to go home next. I said I don’t know.
But already my mind was making arrangements, budgeting my time, committing overtime for work, thinking up excuses to give my boss in case I overextend my stay in Naga. Well, really, I don’t know. But I am planning to call for ticket reservations in a while.
Come Sunday (or Monday), I’ll just have to remind myself again why I have to do this. Why I have to go back here.
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