Thursday, December 4, 2008

Today (2K8 Remix)

Inspiration in solitude; strength in one-man armada

- MSN shoutout for the day

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I woke up at eleven o' clock this morning, an hour earlier than my usual rise-up-from-bed-time.

After brushing my teeth, i went to the barber to have my hair done. From now on, I will have to seek gatsby's help to fix my hair. Gone are the semikal days when my head looks like a freshly cut coconut being sold in the streets.

I went home after my haircut. As I crossed the overpass near my place, I passed by an old lady begging under the rain. She was soaking wet and chilling because of the unbelievably cold weather. I would have given her my umbrella if not for the fear of another illness befalling me. With two five peso coins to spare, i parted with my change hoping it would be enough to last her until another passer finds her state heart wrenching.

I arrived home starving. With no time to waste, I took a bath, ate my lunch and kissed my mom goodbye. Despite her silvery hair, deep lines on her face, and significant teeth loss, she still is the most beautiful woman to ever walked the earth for me. I won't be gay if I found someone else better than her. It was past noon and I had to hit the gym. I had to complete my workout if I wish to free my evening for other plans.

The workout went well. I am back to my old program but signs of weakness tell that I haven't returned to my full strength. Halfway through the 110-lbs military press, my arms have buckled down. I had to lessen the weight of the Olympic Bar if I wish to declare my program done. Ever since recovering from Throatie, I didn't miss any single workout day to compensate for my week-long absence. Add to that my significant loss of weight and I'd think that Throatie did good for my fitness goals rather than mess up my well-being.

Still, despite my strong desire to suppress my physical attachment for another, I yearn for an intimate hug from someone. I do not know, maybe it's just my nature. On very cold nights like this morning before I went into slumber, my thoughts dwell on wrapping my arms around a soft, warm object hoping it would respond to my longing. Unfortunately, only a small extra pillow answered to my call of need.

I came to work twelve minutes late. Workout was extended to give way for my activities later. With sixteen pesos and seventy-five centavos in my wallet, I am basically broke. I will have to survive on pancakes tonight prepared by a house help who is worried that I might be skipping meals.

A colleague was absent and I'm running an entire account all by myself. We have talked about her leave last weekend and with the worst of luck, a bout of sickness aided her plans today. The challenge at work is daunting but with no one playing RnB and Mariah on the floor, I can free my thoughts and do what a faux psychic must do: make everyone believe that words can foretell the future.

This one-man show is a test of endurance. The shift falls on a dead zone where most users across the planet are asleep and wandering in their dreams. Resentments may rise, but if we can prove our worth being durable operators, perhaps nobody will speak of us being sheltered from the deluge. If goals are met even if I stood alone, others will see our worth like everyone else across the shifts.

When work is done and my shift is over, I will have my only off for the week. I will do my midnight shopping in Divisoria wishing to add more gains to my list. After all the errands have been done, I will arrive home weary and exhausted. I just know. I'm running on short supply of energy. When the clock strikes four, it will be bedtime. It is my hope that when I wake up tomorrow, everything will unbound itself from the hands of the clock.

And the day will cease to be planned.

For a change, I will have my slow time all to myself
breathing the cool scent of trees;
letting my eyes shimmer at the sight of a wintry sun
and just forgetting that the grind starts anew when dawn comes two days from now.

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