Originally written on Facebook.
And so, I had to whisk away my laptop to the office for the nth time since last month because of my issue-ridden broadband connection kept me from doing work at home. There is a positive spin to this sudden uprooting. Not only do I enjoy high-speed internet, the solitude afforded by being cocooned in a real workplace allows me to get things done before the deadline.
When my shift was finally over, the sun was already on the horizon. It was a different scene, not like when I had to pack my things and slip away at daybreak. I chose to stay a little late, this time, to catch up with colleagues who have been with the company longer than I can remember. Trivial stories were swapped: people who have been kicked out because of habitual absences, people who have rejoined because of their proven reliability when the situation needs their presence; little stuff that makes our days less ordinary. In that brief space afforded by my stay, one striking streetscape caught my attention - that of the vegetarian restaurant across the building that has been part of my growing-up years as a daytime resident of this neighborhood.
Nostalgia retains snippets of memory. Of taking early lunches - solo and cheery - knowing the calories I'll add will be burned at a nearby gym later that afternoon; morning sprints to the time clock as my tardiness counted against my performance; afternoon sashays - away from the workstation I secretly despise for I have to return the next day and perform productive feats for the company.
And of the time I dated my mom because she wanted to try vegetarian.
These are random memories drawn from the cache in my head to remind myself that no matter how many projects I will be asked to lead, and how, despite my restive youth, managed to outlast all the people who swear to stay with the company, there will always be a part of me that will look back at this bend and in a reverent whisper, whose voice only the mind could hear, say:
"Change is just a construct. The essence remains the same."
2 comments:
Thanks for taking us to this street. Sometimes it feels good to run hands over old scars and retrace steps that have led us to who we are now.
I LOL'd at "afternoon sashays." Hehe! :P
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