It’s another forty minutes trapped inside the cab that is (unsuccessfully) navigating Manila’s infamous traffic.
i’ve been doing this for more than a thousand days–that it has become an automatic habit for me. Wake up, take a bath, kiss the husband goodbye, rush out of the house, work like a robot, finish what I can, catch a cab, go home, spend whatever waking hour I have left with the hubby, fall asleep, Press repeat.
There are days when I am okay. But there are also days, like now, when I am convinced that real life is more mortifying than a Steven Seagal movie.
The only wind pushing my sail is the impending trip on my birthday–God willing I’ll get a visa. Going away somewhere great can be quite difficult for normal citizens like me whose parents don’t work for the government or have a trust fund, at least.
Work… is great, as long as I don’t think about my salary grade and the office politics. Work is great because I am learning, getting recognized for what I do and earning my own.
Everyday, I think about how my friends started building their families, of having kids and all, while Hub and I remains a family of two. There are days when it’s okay, after all we are happy, the two of us. But there are also days when sadness creeps in and I am left with ugly thoughts like, “God seemed intent on giving children to everyone I know except apparently, me…” Today is one of those days, aggravated by a callous remark made by one of my friends who deemed she is more “inconvenienced traveling because she has a kid, something that I childless person like me won’t understand…”
I tried giving her a piece of my mind bit what for, really? After all, she is partly correct.
…finally reached my office building. It’s kinda amazing/pathetic that I am pouring today’s emo thoughts on my iPhone. Whatever happened to good old journal keeping?