Reflecting 11

I am sick. Sick of waking up every morning to prepare for office; Sick of looking for the best clothes I could wear for the brand new sickening routine of going to the FX station to trek the road for a new office work day.

Eleven months ago, I was a destitute tightening my belt to unnecessary expenses since there was no longer “baon” and allowances for school. After graduation, I realized that I already understand why working people tend to like and miss school more now that they have already emancipated from the duties of being a student. I felt it by heart… that I will be cheaper by the dozen.

Whenever there is a new film to watch, I tend to pass and just wait for an upcoming hotter [I convince myself] attraction just to save the dough. My mom was in the US testing her luck there during this time; hence, I didn’t have enough resources to just say, “Hey, there’s a cool film showing today! Wanna watch?” Nah uh. Not that way. I even considered a cheaper combo meal in a regular fast-food than the short order that I used to get as a scholar. It was tough. Transitions are really difficult especially when you’re already thinking that graduation is a step up of the food chain. My case shows otherwise.

Weng, Chuck, Jonjon, Tintin, Monique and Aida… my constant crime partners for years already, have witnessed how I have embraced poverty when my older sib was the one in-charge of the house, which I totally refuted. It even became more difficult when the previous job I had ended since I considered it as an underpaid job. Just a brief background on it, I worked for a TV ad production designer who happened to be worse than Miranda Priestley since “she” kept on sticking around even with my personal engagements. I left; also for reasons that the pro bono days are quadruple compared to the paid days with free OT. Well, it’s big when you get paid for a day’s work in the advertising industry, yeah, but if you would spread it over the days that you worked for free? Not even a hearty meal for a day would suffice for the measly amount that you get. I am officially a bum from then on.

On the remuneration issue still, the Prod Designer only gives me my salary whenever “she” feels like it. Imagine, I was enslaved for so long with a floating contract that’s why I don’t have any protection under the labor industry. After getting a degree from college; fighting a dog-eat-dog race to the end, there I was a slave of an undergrad ego-tripping self-proclaimed guru with no people management skills whatsoever.

Right now, I at least have the 15th and the 30th of the month to frolic on the fruit of my labor. Also, the company that I am currently working for had me my very first medical program at my second month of being with them! The people I am working with have great work ethics and the boss that I am under is the most fantastic boss you could ever hope and wish for; plus he never wants me to do overtime work without proper compensation. Thank you.

Eleven months ago, I am but a couch potato at home. Kyvs, who also had his issues in school back then, walked into our house and bored himself with me as we, the renegades, dug into the pile of DVDs I had on my rack and played them one after the other. I realized that getting bored with people that you value is the ultimate test in life. I bet, I am yet to pass the test.

Eleven months ago, I didn’t have my MACBOOK. I reckon the number of times I heard myself speak of having a G4 for my graduation. The G4 didn’t happen and worse, I am far from even getting an analog laptop due to my unemployment. Now, Mac-Mac is making its way to showing me the money – minus the Jerry Maguire whine.

So yes, I am sick. And I am more than willing to be sicker than this sickness just to keep myself fueled up by the tiny blessings I had in this short ELEVEN MONTHS. [So yeah, bad news to the cranky FX barker for he shall continue agonizing with the sight of my face in his early morning turf to the terminal, haha!]

As for me, it is better to face the hardships of waking up and the stress/pressure that comes with the early morning jitters [like conception brings morning sickness ahuh haha] than to experience the hardships of being stuck inside the confines of a house that’s not relinquished.

Eleven does not make sense to a pregnant woman for she must be nursing for two months already but for Me, Kyvs, My MacBook and all other personalities who walked with me through all these, eleven makes a perfect number times two and that’s another reason to celebrate!

Cheers to heaven and earth!