Cry wine and sell vinegar

I had hoped that my 3-day vacation in Dumaguete City would clear my head and rejuvenate my weary 23-year-old self. I had visions of going back to work, so full of fresh air and healthy sunshine rays, that I'd dazzle everyone with my writing and my tan. As it is, I can barely write anything decent this week. One article underwent such a gruesome edit, I wept. Take away from me my writing, I lose whatever ounce of confidence I have and I turn into a cabbage. So, please, I really, really need to get it back.

I've had blocks before, sure, but nothing as serious as this. I'm stumped in nearly everything I do. My letters suck, my articles might as well be bonfire fodder and this blog post is killing me! I've got three more pending posts and I haven't the heart to finish it. Inspiration is a prima donna bitch, I tell you.

Normally, when I encounter blocks, I doodle. I've been a doodler since as far as I can remember, and doodling has always helped me squeeze out my creative juices when I need it most. It doesn't matter that I'm no Da Vinci. Doodling gets the gray mater running. It also used to annoy the heck out of my classmates. I'd doodle on their reference materials and they freak out. Strange people, eh?

And if doodling doesn't do the trick, I scribble. I'd write my name over and over again. And because my name is 26 letters long, my right hand gets quite the workout. That was before I got good with the keyboard, though, thanks to Typer Shark Deluxe.

Now, instead of scribbling, I type. Letters, words, sentences, paragraphs, only to delete them and start again. I even retype my stuff if I have to. I try to tackle simpler assignments first, like letters, memos and whatnots before sinking my fingers on to the heavy hitters. I blast my eardrums out with music. I eat. I walk. I do anything but stare at my blank word document. I go at it for as long as I can, and eventually, an article would type itself out.

This is what I'm doing now. Writing, re-writing, deleting and struggling to make this one post count. I feel that if I don't get through this, my head will explode and I'd be stuck answering and transferring phone calls for the rest of my life.

I feel a whole lot better now and I just hope the feeling will tide over to my other pending articles.

If it doesn't, then this:


see more

We were the kings and queens of promise

Yesterday, I received a piece of glass with my name on it. It has rendered me quite speechless.

Most promising employee. Thank you Lord.

Congratulations, Jas. For someone whose only ambition in life was to finish college, you're doing pretty good. Let's continue to kick ass, shall we?

Sturm und drang

I've always believed in my ability to stare into the eyes of the deadline monster, make it back off and crap itself. Unfortunately, the head honcho of all deadline monsters decided that enough was enough. The ickle beasties came back with a vengeance and totally obliterated my pride into pixie dust. I'm waging a losing battle, my report already settling on its 2nd day as an overdue and pending failure.

I've always been particular with meeting deadlines. My English teacher in high school ingrained in me my future work habit with her philosophy: I don't care how you do it or when you do it. Just as long as you have it when I ask for it. Campus journalism at its coolest.

At work, I carried this philosophy to heart. My bosses know better than to bother me with futile requests for updates. I'd lounge all week before getting into frenzied action, but I always manage to deliver so, no harm done.

Modesty aside, I have not missed a single deadline prior to this failure. Nuh-uh. Never mind that I sometimes submit my report at 11:59 in the evening. The point is, it got there a minute earlier and not a minute later.

It's official. Deadline is here to bite my ass.

I don't know what happened to me this time, though. I guess one can blame the amount of stress I had last month as the reason for the gaping hole in my brain. I can blame the rotating power interruptions for breaking my work momentum. All valid reasons, but in the end, I blame myself for lacking the discipline to see my assignments through the day. I rely too much on procrastination-induced adrenaline to come up with thinly disguised bullshit to pad out my assignments.

No more of this. Beginning today, here's the new world order, so brain, shut up and pay attention:

• Lessen internet hours. Surfing, games and movies will be limited to at least two hours of your 8-hour working day
• Once you have an assignment, start on it. RIGHT AWAY. No more tomorrow bullshit from you.
  
• Articles for editing can only sit with you for a maximum of two days. Chop them fast and quick, then it's off to delivery
• Go to work earlier. Take advantage of the morning peace to work on your stuff
• Run maintenance on your computer. You can't keep blaming it for being slothful all the time without you doing something about it
• Avoid bring home tasks. You're suppose to do work at the work place, not at home.
• Try beating you past performance. Dazzle the bosses even more
• WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL BLOGGING? FINISH THE DAMN REPORT ALREADY!!
  

The picture of perfection is only in your mind

It wasn't until a college friend sent me a text message asking for a favor that I realized that I had become a citizen of the world(wide web). Her favor, which had me digging through my email's archive, began with this text: "Na computer tu ara? ("Are you in front of a computer now?")

Not "How are you?", or "Are you at work?". Just "Are you in front of a computer now?". The question just dared me to answer otherwise.

I don't think my friends ever expected me to be the resident computer junkie. Neither did I. I was one of those people who failed to grasp the significance of Ctrl + S in high school. I never got History of Computing right, messing up COBOL with FORTRAN and vice versa. Nearly all my projects were handwritten. I don't have a computer unit at home, ever since my brother thought it was a good idea to bring our hard drive to school.

It was only when I got my first job out of college that I started getting it. Networks, manga and Crunchyroll. I got my first office-issued laptop, a bulky Compaq, and from then on it was Photoshop, torrents and zip files (cough, porn!, cough). I miss the Compaq badly. Last I heard, they had him back in storage, never having figured out how to sweet-talk him to work. *sniff*

Oookay, so it's not that impressive. Any 15-year-old can do all those stuff better than I could ever hope to. But there are times when I feel that I ought to have an award for being able to do wonders with a computer. Take last week for example. The Outlook was being a pest, I had a deadline, and I only had YM-ed instructions from a colleague on how to configure the damn thing. Besides, I'm a nurse for Pete's sake. Nurses aren't suppose to know these things.

After a few snags, Google here and Google there, this:

Nirvana. Thank God for Google.

So yeah, now I'm a great believer in Google. I use it as a verb everyday. I get pissed off when people come to me for information when they can easily Google it online.

I expect to have more of these moments with my current work. I'm practically an IT professional by association. In a few months, I'll be marking my first year at work and will be logging my 8640th hour in in the internet. Yes, I actually did the math for that.

Despite my hours, I still have yet to become a full-fledged netizen - online shopping, internet banking, health insurance leads, freelance jobs, the works. You know, stuff that will turn me into a total hermit.

And health insurance leads? Everybody needs health insurance. And everybody ought to have genuine leads on the internet.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't have split identities when I'm online. I'm just as awkward as I am in person, still socially inept and retarded.

There are just some things Google can't do for you.

Manila, the second act/Getting through the curtain

I was supposed to have had written this post last week. But whatever. I was a wreck when I left for Manila and still was when I came back to Zamboanga a week later. February was an extremely hectic month, with deadlines, rotating power interruptions and fickle-minded bosses adding to the stress of organizing a global launching event.

We arrived in Manila on a Sunday, which is quite lovely since I get OT points travelling on weekends. And that's about the only lovely thing I can remember. Everything went downhill from there. We left a bag full of money, checks and contracts in Zamboanga Airport's departure lounge. The office was closed for fumigation and fogging. We couldn't stay there because, yes, you will die when you stay behind a fogging. The chain holding the ceremonial agong broke. I got stuck inside one of Solair's tiny bathrooms and had to destroy public property to call for help.

Hell starts here.

These series of events did not sit well with my already stretched-out nerves. But as Ms. Cuchie philosophically enthused, better to get all the bad luck out of the system now than later. And that it did. Our launch event was a success. I was tired, hungry and battered beyond functionality but I was happy, more so when my boss congratulated me for a job well done.

Things definitely started to pick up after our event. For one, I could eat again! I stuffed myself with desserts from the breakfast buffet - parfait, chocolate cake, mango crepe, ice cream. Deciding that I had to affirm my dreams of going to Japan, I dared the sushi buffet and ate my first sushi and raw salmon.

RAW.

The hotel we were staying in was pretty posh, situated right smack in busy Makati and just in front of Greenbelt 3. Not exactly shopping central for a pauper like myself. The whole place reeked of eye-candy and, for some reason, smelled of soap. I saw my fair share of stars, Greenbelt being the high-end place that it was: Heart Evangelista, Marc Nelson and Nonito Donaire. Of the three, I was most tempted to approach Donaire, but I couldn't muster the bravado. /wrist

I managed to find an SM, but it was a disappointment. No Comic Alley there. I found Power Books in Glorietta, taking care of my reading needs, but for the first time ever, no anime. Sad, sad day.

Glorietta at night.

I had finally accepted the fact that I was going to spend my last day in Makati alone, when my friend, Penny, managed to drop by despite her busy schedule at work. We made our way to Greenbelt's cinema and did the one thing I was absolutely itching to do, pestering all my classmates in the process - watch Alice in Wonderland. In its full 3D glory. Another giddy moment for me.

300 smackeroos. And worth every penny.

And just like that, everything was over and I had to go back home - not as flashy as Makati, but home nonetheless.

Anyhow, I'm all but blank this week. I've expended so much neurons and dopamine last February that until now, I still can't get my act together. Out of whack until the next trip comes along.

Pretty hotel lamp deserves a photo, yes?

In search of glory and honor, we walk in the garden of his turbulence

Being a pessimist has its benefits – it keeps you on your toes, gives you that extra eye for details. Tomorrow at work, all hell breaks lose, with all the bosses present, and with barely a week left for preparations, before we leave for Manila for a major event.

Truth to tell, I’m catatonic with fright. I’m already steeling myself for a bloody week, where my nose will be rubbed raw from all the grinding I’m expecting to take. My apprehension is more on the fact that I can’t seem to pull myself together for work, no matter how much I try to psych myself out, no matter how many post-its I leave on my desk, no matter how long I stay on my workstation, compulsively opening and saving files.

It’s as if my system has gone into hibernation, to prepare myself from the physical backlash that awaits me in the coming days. While I wallow in the calm that is before the storm, I list, rune and muse the things that need to be done, things that I should be doing instead of wiling my time away on movies, online frivolity and general fluff. I’m trying to change, but I’m big on procrastination and cramming.

And I can’t relax unless I’m on the same wavelength of hectic-ness as everyone else. I’ve got a list of things to do, and unless I can scratch some of them out, I’m a ticking timer on a countdown to hysteria. I can’t relax if everyone is busy and I’m not. I’m a dog with a serious case of flea infestation if I finish a job earlier than everyone else because I tend to believe in the adage that if you found something easy to do, you probably did it wrong.

I wish I can just sleep and wake up to find my deadlines and tasks done and over with. I want to do without this pressure, the feeling of air being sucked out of a room, leaving you in a vacuum void of anything but woe and bleak horizons. But if that were the case, how am I supposed to splurge in Manila next week? Every cloud has a silver lining. Mine is National Bookstore and Comic Alley. Hurhur.

I’m trying not to think of what will happen tomorrow, the day after that, the week after February. After all, I can’t change anything. And as what I’ve learned in OT last Saturday, there’s nothing you can do unless people learn the courtesy of replying to emails prompt and early.

Tonight, I pray for the Lord to take this nagging feeling from me, and as the prayer goes, to give me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change. I ask for Him to ease my worries, to find joy and satisfaction in a thorough job done. I’ll ask for a good night sleep, for a sound mind and a fit body tomorrow.

I’ll run through the forest to bury the acorn and forget.

Dumb in space

Really, doing nothing is hazardous to your health. Staring at your PC all day long while finishing reports is fine, but staring at the tube period, is not. My head's hurting pretty bad, and, on top of it all, I have absolutely nothing in my brain.

Nada. Nuffink. At all.

This is really bad. I've been on a lull for a week now. No work means no mental stuff to challenge the gray matter, which means that I'm probably getting dumber by the second. And if there's one thing that I'm really scared of, it's getting really dull and stupid.

I mean, I don't want to be that person who can't string a single coherent thought, or that office worker who has a goofy smile because she can't answer a question. I know that I'm no Einstein, but I do want to retain a certain measure of brilliance in my life, before it fades into the grayness of oblivion.

On these thoughts, I am considering going back to school, not for the sake of a degree, but for the sheer joy of having a frenzied life again. I want to study again, because I want to. I miss the bustle of school - and I can't believe I'm saying this - I simply miss studying, of having my head think about something for a change. Life is so bleak when you are idle.

Anyway, planning to go back to school, I've narrowed my options down to a Masters degree in Nursing, Med School or Law. If I'm going to spend for school, it might as well be an investment towards a more illustrious career in the future :)

So far, it's been hum-hum for me. Home, work and back home again. It does not help that I do nothing in my cubicle all day. The good thing about it is that I can surf the net all day, if I want to, connect with friends and stuff. The bad thing is when your YM contacts won't 'Ping' you back >:@.

Really, sitting around all day is not as fun as it seems. Unlimited free time means unlimited hours wallowing in self-pity and regret. Oh, if only I could wallow in the pinky, fluffy, glittery goo of happiness.

Right. Need to think positive.

I intended to write about the projects I was planning on doing to combat boredom and idleness. See what office-induce dumbness can do :C

*PS: Had to edit 3 times. Grammar errors. Fail.

Why compliments are dangerous to your health

(Or at least, to neurotic people like me :D)

For some reason, I felt bad when my boss sent me an email bearing the unmistakable electronic equivalent of a human compliment. Sure, I was pretty happy about it, but the goody feeling evaporated as fast as it came.

Why a compliment would become so bothersome is beyond me. Maybe I was just nonplussed by it, on the merits that I didn't feel that my accomplishments were that compliment-worthy. I was like, "Hey, it's my job. You pay me to do it, you know."

Or maybe because it was a compliment sent through email. It's harder to "feel" the person when everything is so electronic. Or maybe it's just the paranoid in me, thinking, "This is my boss's way of screwing with my head because I submitted such a pathetic report."

It can also be that I can't accept compliments because I can't bring myself to compliment anyone. Or maybe it's because I feel that compliments are fast becoming a compulsory tradition and a compliment is not always meant.

Or maybe it's because I am afraid of bearing the responsibility of being complimented, knowing full well that with compliments come higher expectations. I now know that my boss and other superiors expect nothing less but prompt responses from me. No more room for slothful reports :B

Anyway, checking through my mail today made me realize that I might just have to accept the possibility that my work is indeed compliment-worthy. THAT compliment might not have been just a fluke. My other boss sent me a compliment, too.

Bully for now.

Tax me 'cos Ah Am Single

So here I was, mad as a bunny, all pumped up to receive my much awaited salary. Here you go, sign here please and bam, DEDUCTIONS!

What deductions? I asked. I didn't sign up for any deductions. I want my bread whole!

Tax dedux. Because I'm single.

Meh?? :B

*Off to spend the gift of Mammon, gyapeeeeee~~

Bosh: Yesterday's crap today

The day started well enough. Arrived 30 minutes earlier than my usual time. Got started on work, did an update or two. Faxed some documents. Then, everything went downhill. For the first time, I had a devastating headache. My skull felt empty. I could not string a single, decent sentence. No amount of candies or chocolates would start up the dregs that was left of my brain. I could not finish a simple article; I did not know if it was from my headache or from the radiation copiously streaming from my computer. Even Facebook frustrated me. I found out that I downloaded incomplete episodes, that 1,604 KB was NOT 324 MB. My computer kept hanging on me because Tune Up Maintenance was running at a sloth pace. The office fridge did not have my favorite chips on stock. And my coop debt was a whopping Php 368.00 in just 3 weeks.

I realized that I would not see my salary this day. No jeepney came along the office street. Tricycle drivers are clods. One asked me for Php 20.00 for a ride that would barely last 3 minutes. One complained that it was dark and that he could not possibly drive me to that God-forsaken place and back, etc, etc, etc. I moved back and said "Bai-Bai" instead of "Oh, shut up, shithead". One driver left without a word when I stated my destination. Excuse me for having manners. I walked about a kilometer or two to catch a jeep. Waited for 30 minutes for an empty one to pass by. Students, I thought, were stealing my jeepney rides. A woman stepped off a jeep and stood EXTREMELY close to me. What, woman? The curb ain't big enough for the two of us? Invasion of spatial privacy?

Got home in one piece. Wrote this entry while wishing for a brand new motorcycle.

Doggone internet days

I hate these days when the internet is down. It literally zaps the life out of my fingers, and I refuse to do anything. Except stare at the digital clock on my desktop, willing it go a tad second faster. Or play Hearts and Freecell. Or compulsively move folders on my account. Or manually copy an article I've already finished so people would think that I'm working or something. Or read other people's articles through the local connection.

And then I get jealous of their writing style and I feverishly type away on my keyboard at 54 wpm.

I begin...

Only to be interrupted by the blinking computer icon, signaling the start of a renewed surfing connection :)

Another work-related rant

(and yeah, there's bound to be a lot of work-related rants from this point forward)

Oro! Weekend!

It's Friday, the end of my third week in my new workplace and it's still awkward to be sitting in my cubicle doing and achieving nothing - not unless you count reaching level 15 in FB's Mafia Wars an achievement. As a relative noob, I'm still testing out the employment waters. But, I have to say, having had two jobs prior to this one, starting out is not that intimidating anymore.

I'm lucky to have been provided with a PC set on my very first day and let posterity note that I was bullied into using the internet connection. As with all first days, I, er, refrained, from indulging in my usual internet habits and hovered on relatively official territories. And as with all first days, I got over the impulse to NOT open my Facebook account pretty quickly too, as everybody else was doing it.

Anyway, today I realized how lucky I am to have this PC. The other new recruit, I learned, had to kill 8 hours, doing absolutely nothing but sit behind his desk all day. Poor dude, I know the feeling. The last week had the internet going haywire. I had to play FreeCell and Hearts all day to keep me from losing it. When my PC had to undergo a makeover, I was so bored I twisted all Ma'am Fru's paperclips into human figures. Just for fun. Yeah.

It's been an easy week, which for me, is completely unnerving. I can't keep still and I hate doing nothing, especially if someone is paying me to do it. Basically what I'm tasked to do here is to do articles and write ups, something I truly enjoy doing. I've finished all that I was supposed to do last week, which leaves me absolutely gaga as to what I'm supposed to do next or if what I did was possibly what they expected. Bah, I need serious feedback here! I'm tempted to stand up on my table and scream "Yo, people! I am ruddy bored here. Make me do something, anything. I can wax floors, serve coffee and fetch newspaper. I'm even toilet trained!"

Yeah, well, I can't say I can connect and fix printers in a jiffy anymore: we have computer engineers for that, thus my relegation to bystander status. Anyhow, another thing to look forward to this Monday, aside from the arrival of my bosses (signalling the end of my internet viewing pleasures): formal introductions! Yep, I need to stand up in front of people and extrapolate on my happiness at being hired. Gotta be up extra early for that as classes are starting next week. Thanks to DPWH's efforts on repairing a road that needed no repairs, traffic is bound to be hot and heavy.

I had a lot of things I wanted to write, but I forgot them all. It's a fiver, see and I'm leaving to socialize with college friends over coffee. One last FB update and I'm gone!

It's all about lunch

The easiest way to blend in an office environment is through food. As if by some ancient Filipino cultural magic, conversations over lunch are more socially binding than ones done, say, over cubicle walls.

For example, I can talk better to people when I have food with me. Food can cover all conversation stages. You won't even have to think :s

INTRO: Want some chips/biscuits/fries/et al?
BODY: That's my favorite too! But I prefer mayonnaise to my fish rather than vinegar,
OR
BODY: Food is so ruddy expensive nowadays, I know.
CONCLUSION: Here, some chocolates for dessert,
OR
CONCLUSION: You've got to try the shawarma at my place.

In this generation, food is quickly replacing the weather as the topic of choice for starting a conversation.

There is something comforting in lunch conversations, in sharing a meal and a talk. Maybe it's got something to do with the whole people-are-social-animals fact. Or because you won't feel too alone when you're eating with somebody. Or maybe it's because food is a great icebreaker; topic choice is limited only by your gut tolerance for dirt and gore. Or, food is a universal language.

Or maybe because a collective lunch with people is a piece of home in the workspace, and you don't feel so lost when you're starting out in a new job. Sharing a lunch is like getting married - what lunch time has joined together, let no man put asunder! No one's going to eat alone ever again!

I think all offices should practice eating lunch together. In my previous work, you got memo-ED when you fail to join eating time at the dining table. Within a week or two from starting out, I felt at home, comfortable enough to poke fun at the people with whom I share a bit of table space. They don't seem as intimidating as when they are behind their desk, wielding their awesome powers. You see, even great powerful bosses like food as much as you do.

All this talk has made me hungry. Ima go and raid the fridge.

NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM :O

Indecisions

Why does everything have to happen at the most inopportune time? Eh? So eerily ironic.

Here's a look at the Philippines' version of unemployment hell:

"Once there was a girl, whose only dream was to finish college. Barring hail, snow, backfield floods, lackluster wardrobe choices and the general dislike she had for her subjects, she sailed through and finished pretty well. It was only upon her graduation that she realized how ill-fitted she was for human society. She took a job, despite the obvious mismatch in qualifications. She floundered, she fumbled, she LEARNED.

The day came when her contract ended. Now, she thought, with a job experience in tow, finding another job will be easier. How the country proved her wrong. No job wanted her. She took anything that came her way. She sent gazillions of application letters to prospective employers but no one called. Not even one.

Then, like a ray of light from the heavens, she had a job. After all her hard work, a company finally calls! Good pay, good people - good internet connection! Here was her true calling.

Alas, and the irony strikes! Not days had passed when another employer calls, imploring her to come. And another one. And another. The dilemma! The final call rips her tiny heart. It is call from her beloved, the one true employer she had longed for all this time! Yet what could she do? She was trapped, ensnared by the powers of the Mozilla Firefox link on her desktop...."

So, goodbye Zamboanga City Medical Center! Your call came in just a little too late :s Imagine, I'm choosing to sit this interview out instead of tearing out my closet for a business attire. Gotta admire my willpower. Thank joo FIREFOX!!

New work, new rants

Read this. I have a job.

Or rather, I have a new job. Last week, I tendered in my resignation to my old job for another position that could offer me greener, monetary advantages. The parting was not without the drama, though. Contrary to the usual concept of resignation, I liked my previous occupation and the people whom I worked with. My bosses were kind, my colleagues were nice, and my mentors were brainy, smart and great personalities. I'd never admit it out loud, but I figure that I would have been pretty good working in that field of research, better than most even. I was blending in quite nicely with that rough, motley crowd of researchers when I was called away.

So, here I am, sitting inside a cubicle, typing my heart away on a rickety keyboard, on a PC hooked to my long-denied addiction - the Internet. Can't say that I am not pleased. Despite the evident discomfort in starting again in a new environment, I am re-learning the pleasure of privacy, music and net connection.

Anyhow, I am still waiting for directions and guidance from my boss, whom I have yet to meet. It's a scary bit of waiting; my boss is a SHE, a highly-accomplished, well-traveled SHE at that. I've never worked for a woman before, and I've heard that women bosses can be more terrifying than men bosses. I dunno. My past bosses were all men who treated me like a daughter instead of a payed worker. I'm nervous, but I'm not complaining though; I think this would be a great learning experience and I'm hoping to profit from it - in all aspects, of course, including reviving a little ol' blog that has gone under the weather for a year :D

I'll be bringing a lot things in this new job, including a reputation. For some reason, they were really impressed during my interview. I didn't tell them that the reason I was so bloody confident during the panel interview was because I already had a job :D Bad idea, now they think I'm this superscribe with a capital S. Gotta live up to it somehow :p

But still, I miss my old job. It's Athletics Day today, and here I am listening to crappy love songs in an open-toed sandal with clingly beads.

The world is not right. Somebody fix it please :B

RN from the cubbyhole

It has finally happened. I can no longer claim employment superiority over the unemployed. I have reached the end of my contract and since I am not renewing anything, I must regress to a state that I should have completed upon adding RN to my last name: volunteer duty.

I fret on that phrase. I can't imagine giving out free service for 3 (or 6) whole months, not after watching The Dark Knight. Wasn't it the Joker who said that if you can do something, never do it for free? Too bad hospitals don't share that sentiment.

It's not only the "free of service" part that bothers me. It's the effort required to be a volunteer. Back in college, we only had to do two and half days of duty each week and I'd go home ready to die. And I gained weight (I mean, how can that happen anyway??). How would 3 (or 6) whole months affect me, then?? No more sleeping until noon and doing nothing but laze all day routines for me. Aside from that, it's been a year since my board exams. Gotta bring the old noggin' up to scratch, which is not really an easy thing to do.

Still, without the volunteer time in my resume, I can't get a paying job in any nursing school. I mean, teaching is something that I'd like to eventually do. Does not really leave me much of choice, does it?

So, I'm applying as a volunteer nurse at ZCMC this August, and if accepted, I'll start my trips to the hospital this September. To make sure I don't chicken out (again), I've completed all lab works and requirements using my meager savings. That way, I'll really, really, really, push through with this prospect, although I still have to decide if I'll sign up for 3 months or 6 months of duty. That can wait until Monday.

On that note, hospitals are supposed to be a place full of care and compassion, but as I discovered within 3 hours of completing laboratory tests, it's a place so devoid of emotion, it's depressing.

Lab tests went fine, although the stool exam was ickier than usual (I had to transfer the sample from my film container on to the glass vial, since accordingly, film cases went out of fashion months ago :s).

A new thing to do this time was the police clearance. This required a picture, taken at the station itself. The need to smile when in front of the camera is so ingrained in my system that I had to decide whether, wait for it, to smile or not to smile. Whatever my mom said to reassure me, this was going to be a mug shot! I tried to practice a half smile while waiting my turn, but it made me look constipated, so I chose not to smile. I posit thus: you do not smile when you're having your mug shot taken.

Anyway, despite the not-so-good photo of me (which I plan never to show anyone for as long as I live) I discovered that if I didn't smile, I ended up looking uncannily like my dad. If I smiled (which I usually do, thank God), I resemble my mom's side of the family (finally).

All that's left now is for my application letter and my photocopied documents, and I'm all set. On Monday, I'll be sealing this deal. I'll be missing paid work and employment, but I'm sure that after 3 (or 6) months of sacrifice, I'll be handling 3 blue ones every 15 and 30 once again. Bully for that day.

It's personal

It's a fact. I've got zero self-confidence, and when I hit the negative, I can whine the pants off anyone.

And this comment does not help:

"Walang kinabukasan ang mga kabataan sa iyo."

'Tis a joke, they say, that I took personally.

Like hell. Yes, I take it personally. This is the pits. Oh, this is personal. This is war. It's not a joke. It's an insult. No future?! Wtf?!

Whatever. I don't care.

Fridays and Promotions

I do look forward to Fridays.

Heck, it's my favorite day of the week. Not an entirely original choice, though, as I know at least 10 people of the same opinion. Not only do I get closer to ending my 6-month contract, Fridays are also my splurge-days; senseless shopping and eating sprees, designed to make my pocket lighter.

My latest Friday splurge involved treating Ate Teresa to KFC, buying some DVDs for weekend viewing and finally, purchasing the Neil Gaiman book that I had been crushing on since the Christmas season.

Update-roo! I have been promoted! From an unknown position, I have been elevated to the status of executive secretary, on the merits that I type an average of 42 words per minute (according to the latest Typer Shark Deluxe trial) and that I am always hanging around the office anyway. I took this as my boss' way of saying, "I'm giving you something to do since you're always on your ass for the whole friggin' day."

The whole promotion thing began when my boss looked for a computer where he could type his many memos. The main PC in my jurisdiction was fried, because of my many, erm, miscellaneous activities and the computer in the President's office was down as well (Accordingly, it's down due to some technical glitch; I think it's down because it's connected to my main PC and some of the "things" I've dloaded found its way there, and the rest, is history. But I didn't tell them that :3).

That left my laptop as the only available option. Problem is, laptop's are rly hard to use; small keyboard spaces, no mouse attached, etc. and etc... And so, I ended up typing the whole thing, with the boss behind me dictating his thoughts and corrections.

Right-o. So far, I have typed memos and minutes, erased whiteboards, refilled some whiteboard pens, took more minutes, printed articles and even MORE minutes, that really, it should be called HOURS already. Lame joke, I know.

Anyways, despite the constant danger of suffering a major coronary, being a secretary with a lurker boss has its own rewards. One major and important point: I don't dare open a yuri site with my boss around ;/ The laptop has this uncanny tendency to conk out everytime it loads a page.

My conscience is pretty much spotless. :o