Coffee Stains

Thank God it’s Friday. Really, really thank God.

I need to catch up on some sleep. My body is not yet used to waking up deliciously early in the morning, and it still wants to sleep late at night. It might be a contributing factor why I’m still not yet completely well. I just consumed three rolls of tissue (none of them Kleenex, I might add), and I wake up in the middle of the night thankful that it’s still in the middle of the night and I don’t have to really wake up yet—and disappointed that I even woke up in the first place. It’s been like this since Monday. No straight sleep.

My fruit diet never includes coffee, but I’m almost always sleepy at nine in the morning—at work no less. And I can’t afford to recklessly doze off because 1) my boss has made it a habit to pass by my station every 30 minutes, 2) I have to maintain the good and “timely” work that my client says I’ve been doing, and 3) we’re just five in the office and I’m sure my workmates will notice if I unconsciously bang my head against the computer monitor.

They also gave me a mug, which I’m sure was a freebie from the tissue company. (Because it has “smooth bathroom tissue” magnanimously splattered on its front.) It looks outrageously boring, but it does a good job of keeping me alive and warm. And I like how the coffee stains look splashed against its dirty-white roundness.

I’m glad I don’t have to say “it’s just another day at work.” They give me different things to do every day, so I am kept at suspense until I open my mail. It has been a good—more than good—first week.

Now back to work, woman!

Marked Fragile

There are times when I like being sick—usually when I’m at home and can sleep whenever I want as long as I want. I find however that I never get sick during these times. I get sick on my first day on the job, on the Christmas party, on Sinulog. I get sick when no one’s there to take care of me and make sure I’m drinking my medicine and getting enough sleep.

I hate nursing myself basically because I don’t want to nurse myself. I feel so weak and ugly and disgusting when I’m sick, and I don’t like being all those things.

This weekend, Aya and I had to go to the emergency room from food poisoning. We were throwing up every five minutes. I had probably vomited all the food I’d eaten during that day that when I threw up the last few times, nothing came out but violent spurts of air that seemed to drain my stomach of its contents. I tried swallowing pills, but I vomited them too. Mom called and told us we should just go to the hospital. When the lab results came out, we discovered that nothing was wrong with us. Doctor said we just probably ate something bad and asked us not to eat cold and spoiled food. Noted!

Then Sunday came and I woke up with a sore throat. I knew what that meant. I probably gargled at least a glass of salt solution; it still persisted. Come Monday and my nose is starting to congest. Tuesday and I'm weak. Now I'm with a fever, a flu, and a cough. Hopefully this doesn't progress to asthma because then I'll be coughing like it's the end of the world. I wouldn't want that. My cousins who will be studying wouldn't want that. My workmates who will be working wouldn't want that.

Curse this weak, weak body! I hate feeling so fragile!

Whistle While You Work

It's only been two days, but I feel so comfortable at my new workplace already. I don't feel intimidated or pressured or threatened. I feel relaxed, appreciated, and secure. I guess this is the reason why I didn't last very long with Xlibris. When I was still there, I felt like I had to overcome mountains every day without really knowing why, without ever pausing to check if I'm still all right, if I can still go on. But here, I feel taken care of. My boss checks on my progress every once in a while, and not the kind that has you stiffened scared like an idiot. He monitors me like a child, looking into my work and asking if I have problems. He guides me step-by-step into the process, as if teaching me how to walk. And I'm slowly standing up. My work environment feels so wide, feels like it has so much room for me to learn and grow. This is the kind of environment where I thrive—where I know I will rise and be great.

And that was exactly what this job has given me: an opportunity. I'm the first and only person working on this projet for now, and I feel so privileged that they chose me to define the standards. I haven't been assigned to the real deal yet but so far the feedback has been good on my performance. My bosses say they expect a lot from me, and I'm in a place where I know and am willing to meet and exceed their expectations.

On my first talk with the COO, he asked for my commitment. I hesitated because I didn't know if I could live up to my word if I gave it. But I chose to believe in myself and said yes. And I'm glad I did. I feel so positive about my work that I don't mind waking up very early in the morning. I could definitely last here for two years—maybe even more. Let's cross our fingers and see!

Those Days

I'm in one of those moods where I just need to rap on the keyboard and rant. I really wanted to write a post about Sinulog and truly how moving an experience it is. But my Sinulog spirit has worn out and replaced by a hollow anticipation of work. The company hasn't "exactly" hired me yet, but I did such a good job during that work simulation test that—modesty aside—it would be foolish to let me go. I'm very confident about my skill set, and if they don't want me, I'm sure I could find another job in a heartbeat. The thing though is, I'm not really sure where I'm headed right now. Everything in my life—work, boys, friends—they're all a little surreal. I used to think that I know the different versions of myself when I'm with my different set of friends. Now I find myself confused, asking myself if this who I really am, if this is what I want people to see me as. And am I really afraid of stereotypes or am I actually obsessed with them that I try to fit in every category?

I just feel so cowardly right now. The first moment of inconvenience, the first sight of a glitch, and I'm running scared. I'm running away. Always have been. And what sucks is I'm not really going anywhere. I just don't want to stay in one place that I allow myself to be sucked into the illusion that I have somewhere good to go. To feed my ego, I have lie to myself that I can survive without my friends, but they can't do much without me. But I'm wrong. Everyone in my life would be happy without me. I'm just a passing, a memory that will stay alive but will also wither away. I have to admit that I'm not that important, not that smart, not that special.

To be honest, I really don't know why I can't let myself believe that people can genuinely care about me. When they try to get close, I always think of the day when they'll go cold and leave me wondering if we ever even had something to begin with. Friendship is something that is still unbelievably strange to me. I have so many people who smile with me in pictures and laugh with me over beer, but I always find myself drying my own tears and facing my own problems. No one ever asks if I'm okay and actually want to know the answer.

Or.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just paranoid because I'm so extremely jealous of people who have best friends and boyfriends. Maybe I'm just sad because I still can't fucking convince myself to feel beautiful. And I'm trying. I have to try. Maybe my friends are all there if I just call them. And maybe it's just me, too damned proud to admit that I'm vulnerable and too cynical to believe that someone cares. And maybe it's the shallowness of it all—of love and life and everything that hangs in between. No one ever ones to dive deeper because we're afraid of drowning, of not knowing what those waters hold. Because reality isn't like the movies after all; things never turn out the way you expect them to. And you're almost always disappointed.

This post is pointless, and maybe that's why it's necessary for me to write this. I have to give myself the chance to enjoy the pointlessness of my life. I have to open myself to the people who make an effort to break my walls and see the wretchedness behind it. I am a mess; most people don't know that because all they see is a shrew who knows how to down a bottle and talk. But I am mostly an idiot. An idiot who is too proud.

The Beginning of the End

I don't want to think that the world will end this year. But if it's God's will, then so be it. I'm not very confident that I'll be one of the lucky people on judgment day, but 2011 was such a special year that I don't have that kind of fear that makes you want to be violently religious all of a sudden. I doubt religion can save me later, but my faith has always done miracles for me. And I believe in goodness and love and family. I've had these things and more. I have the best family in the world. I've done things that have made myself and the people who matter to me proud. I've been on a date. I can die happily anytime.

I can't begin to describe how special and wonderful this year's Christmas and New Year have been. I've never felt closer to my family in these past few weeks than ever before. I'm so in love with every one of them—my cousins and uncles and aunts and nieces and nephews. I'm more open to my mom and my stepdad. I've had pretty funny conversations over beer with my friends. Mishy even visited. 2011 was one of the best years in my life. And for this I'll be forever grateful.

But this post is my perfunctory New Year's resolution post. So I shan't dally no longer.

1. Never lie (if you can help it).
2. Often laugh.
3. Always love.

I doubt I'll get to keep number 1. I've already broken it in fact, thus the parenthetical element. I've always been a good liar, and I've gotten even better at it. It's just always been a part of me that it's practically impossible to get away. Because lying is what makes people listen to me. I tell them what they want to hear, and they almost all the time love me for it. I'm not really proud of it, but sometimes it helps. It helps me cope. So I will try NOT to lie if I can help it. If there's really no reason to say something that isn't true, then I'll shut up.

I love laughing. It's one of the things that remind you why life is beautiful.

I'm sure I'll keep number 3 until the world ends. Oh yes, pun intended. I guess the real point to number three is not just say I love people but more importantly show them. I'm also extending this resolution to myself. I need to get over my insecurities about being pretty. I need to give myself a chance to think and feel beautiful. I want to respect myself more because in the end, that's all I'm going to have.

People change, and the things that people want change. I change ever so easily that sometimes I'm confused about who I really am and what I really want. I guess I'll try and get along with the idea of constancy and that need to have and feel something familiar every day. I don't always have to change; sometimes I just have to make do with what I am for the moment. I realize this now.

Twenty-twelve, I pray you be good to me and everybody else. Whether or not you're the beginning of the end, we will welcome you with courage and prayer as you come and pass. Here's to another fruitful year! :-)