The Superoperator

January begins and we find our team swamped with more work. Mami Athena's amazing publicity machine, which she unleashed during the holidays worked wonders, that our clients abroad transferred two more accounts from their other centers to work on before the year ended. Work has become more toxic. Imagine spending eight hours coming up with "good vibrations" just to assure the client's users that their fate for this year would be better than the one that passed.

And that's not just one user. I'm speaking of hundreds of people anxiously seeking their future with their crushes, exes or new-found boyfriends - which we all know still depends on the same people who sought their fates in the first place.

But we know also how soothing it is to hear of a possible and sincere love between a hopelessly romantic soul and the person who makes this person's heart beat. Especially if the affirmation comes from someone who plays the role of a "conjurer of the future" in this never ending quest for our one true love.

I am the one who plays the conjurer - the psychic love adviser who gives advices and fearless forecasts to all those lonely souls attracted by our mother company's promise of a better chances at love in the next movement of the stars.

So back at work, job was toxic and inquiries were overflowing. From receiving a mere 40 messages a day, it jumped to more than a hundred fifty these past few days. The boss was happy with the output. I was happy with how useful I have become. However, work has become very draining, especially when your sole partner in the account calls for an unexpected leave after her kid got sick today.

I arrived at work this afternoon in a good mood. I have a new bag, which I bragged to everyone on the floor. The male teller who assisted me at UCPB Shaw was uber-hot and El Tigre was online when I logged on at Meebo before my shift began. Everything in the account was manageable despite my solitary presence.

That was until the clock struck 3.

Suddenly messages began pouring in and there was no time to analyze every relationship situation that came up. Who cares if a Gemini and a Sagittarius ain't compatible according to the Zodiac reading of the online professional fortune tellers, when the text sender only wishes to know how to get closer to the Twins? Would it truly matter if a Leo's Horoscope reading for today spells bad luck when the client's user wants to know if there is a chance of getting back together with his two-timer 16-year old ex-boyfriend?

In such cases, spontaneity is the key to managing the flow of conversations. What truly matters is to shield the users from more heartaches by gradually making them realize that everything in love lies in their own hands.

For eight hours, I only had a three-minute cigarette break. I skipped dinner for the nth time and juggled my responsibilities to online friends who sought advice from how to execute an exercise program, to how to get a hook-up on the dance floor. It was multi-tasking at its finest and not to mention, I introduced the "what's inside your bag" activity on the Tripper's Clan Thread at Pinoyexchange. It became an instant hit until I left before my shift had ended.

My job doesn't pay much. I don't complain either. It's because I see my work as an extension of my home. The boss is my father figure; Mami Athena, the QATD Manager being my surrogate mother; and the team leaders being my big brothers and sisters in the company. Since I am one of the oldest operators still in the job, I get non-monetary perks such as getting the workstation of my choice (the farther it is from the other operators, the better) or sleeping without getting reprimanded - even if it's the boss or the supervisors who catches me.

It is because in the longest time I've been doing my job, only once did I fail the entire team. The guilt I carried almost lead to my resignation, which I only took back after Mami Athena had given me the permission to leave.

Passion pays a lot, especially if it drives your entire well-being.

Before I logged out from the system this evening, I received a short complementary IM message from my Team Leader:


[22:01] Pinksexybabe: out of 290 total msgs ng center natin today 206 ang nagawa mo dun
[22:01] Pinksexybabe: congrats
[22:01] Pinksexybabe: [insert smiley face here]
[22:01] Pinksexybabe: good job
[22:03] Mugen: huh?
[22:03] Mugen: morning na yan?
[22:04] Mugen: yup morning and pm
[22:05] Mugen: wow
[22:05] Mugen: hehehe
[22:05] Mugen: that is an achievement indeed
[22:05] Mugen: [insert smiley face here]
[22:05] Pinksexybabe: log out ka na
[22:05] Mugen: yup

After whining the whole time that I can't take my job anymore, I broke a record which puts me back on the spotlight of the entire account.

Theory of Insanity

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

- Albert Einstein

---

Mami Athena conducted a training for the special accounts operators yesterday. Apparently, the clients abroad were not happy with how we are handling their user's concerns. Our means of calling their attention to return and use the service does not work anymore. New strategies must be applied to keep them interested in our "I-can-see-the-future" role-playing game.

The quote from Albert Einstein was her introduction. She said that we have been doing the same job for a long time that our old methods have already become a routine. We might not notice how formulaic our responses are, but the users feel that the longer they stay in the service, the more their "personal psychics" sounded like a machine. "It turns them away," Mami Athena explained, "Kumita na kasi ang style niyo."

Her recommendation was to change the way we talk to the users. "A product must have three qualities for it to survive the market," She said. Mami then went to point the three phrases written on the white board. "Personalized Approach, Buzzwords, and Call to Action." Suddenly, we found ourselves having a crash-course in Marketing. Much as her subject felt so alien to me, I knew such knowledge would greatly improve my chances of having a longer chat strings at work.

"If it comes from her, then it must be essential." I said to myself.

"Let's have Tide and Surf as an example," My surrogate mom continued. She then made a gesture as if holding two imaginary sachet in her hands. "Tide has its own market, while Surf sells more than its rival because of its lower price." My head wanders, I do not know anything about laundry soaps. Nevertheless, my ears were all hers. "In order for Tide to survive, it's campaign should have sounded like this..."

I do not know if it was the cold weather or my brooding fears about the family business that was responsible, but staring at Mami's eyes as she spoke in front of us explaining the ins and outs of advertising, suddenly made me remember how it used to be like in high school.

Long before I discovered my gift in writing and long before I discovered my liking for boys, my first love was with business. Back in high school we were given advanced subjects according to our academic capacities. The students who belong to the cream of the crop of the batch took up Bookkeeping. The average ones were assigned to Stenography and Office Management. While we, who were considered the delinquents and below-average were thrown to Salesmanship. It was a mark of embarrassment for many, but it was a wish came true for me.

For two years, I made it a point to achieve excellence in my field of study. We studied theories, consumer behavior, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and so on. We were sent outside the campus to interview entrepreneurs, big businesses and corporations, and for two quarters of the school year, we ran the only corner store allowed in our building.

We were the richest students in the batch.

However, much as I would like to take up Business Administration in College, my weakness in Mathematics pulled me out of the ranks and out of the schools I took entrance exams in fourth year. The summer after graduation, I had to beg my aunt in the Royal Pontifical University to push for my application's reconsideration in the Faculty of Arts and Letters. Fortunately, they saw my potentials and my thrust began to change from selling and starting a business to pursuing the arts and unleashing my creative muses.

Another four years had passed and college molded me to become a man of letters.

As Mami continued to explain our new strategy in winning back our users by using Tide as an example, it came to me that it's never too late to pursue my ancient dream.

"Kapag Tide ang ginamit mo, magkakaroon ka ng mas maraming panahon sa iyong pamilya." Mami was citing an example of a Personal Approach.

"Dahil ang Tide ay mabula at konting kuskos lang, tanggal lahat ng dumi sa damit." She asked one of my colleagues to state what she thought was the buzz words in the sentence. Hesitantly, she answered the words mabula, kuskos and dumi sa damit. My colleague was correct.

"Kaya't ano pa ang iniintay mo misis, bili na ng tide!" Had I heard the example of Call to Action she had given while inside the supermarket, I'd immediately return Ariel back to its shelf and pick Tide instead. Who can blame me, I'm just partial to my Mami.

The refresher course went on for another thirty minutes before she dismissed us so we could take charge of the account left by the shift before on the floor. I still have to see if her new methods would improve the chat strings I make in every text conversation. Nevertheless, I am glad she made me remember my roots in business. It would be something worth exploring the more I feel threatened that my family's way of life might be taken away from us.

As for Albert Einstein and his definition of insanity, It came to me that I'm going around in circles lately. My issues with Phanks and my new-found independence remains unresolved. My fears of starting all over again and falling madly in love with another person hounds me like a restless ghost. And my attempts in putting up walls and closing down my doors and avoiding places of distraction have just boxed me up but it never did something to really improve my well-being.

It's like doing so many related things over and over expecting a different result.

If only it would be easy to come up with a convincing call of action like Mami encourages us to do, I would immediately say yes to what my mind desires me to execute. However, with no plan to hold on to and no clear aim in sight, changes will be easier said than done.

"Just avoid going in circles and aim for the first straight line you will come across..."

What really matters at the moment is that Einstein's theory never applies to me.

Today (2K8 Remix)

Inspiration in solitude; strength in one-man armada

- MSN shoutout for the day

---

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.

Combat Ready

The family doctor strongly recommends that I should take a complete bed rest today. She said that I might be suffering from severe exhaustion after hinting all the activities I had the previous week. Antibiotics is still out of the question, since the jitters and the fever only began yesterday. However, if the cold spell persists until tomorrow, there is a likely chance that a visit to the doctor would deem necessary.

She also asked to have my chest x-rayed. The culprit might turn out to be a respiratory ailment. With all the suggestions she mentioned, the only thing that comes to mind are the expenses. The medicines will upset my wallet and so is the doctor's fee. If only I could sleep this feeling of being unwell until Wednesday, waking up would never be of importance.

The gym activities will cease indefinitely. There is a possibility that my intense work-out last week worsened my condition. The price of impressing someone took its toll. Had I known I'd never be able to match his strength, I should have failed my program instead.

With my body and mind working at half its capacity, I showed up for work this afternoon. Filing an emergency sick leave is out of the question. With only two operators manning the accounts, absence would only create confusion.

The job performance itself is on the verge of a disaster. My response time is unbelievably slow, while incoherent words confuses my users. How can a mind work effectively when intermittent muscle pains and joint aches distract its focus? With a head swerving in different directions and a body feeling heavier than a whale, to lean one's back against an office chair while a blanket brought all the way from home wraps the body is the only solace I have.

It's half past six. Barely three hours more before the shift ends. I don't know if things would go smoothly until I leave the workplace. I don't care anymore. One thing is for sure. After taking this risk of going here despite my grave condition, even if the jitters don't return tonight,

I will take that badly needed rest the doctor had suggested and recover from this seemingly recurring sickness which have hounded me since gaining my freedom two months ago.

---

The cold spell returns.
I hope to skip the X-Ray part and just swallow whatever tablet I have to swallow.

Breathe In, Breathe Out

I need to let this off my chest or I might suddenly explode:

"When workplace becomes a place of dread, it makes you wonder if its worth staying at all."

Pray that I won't rise up. You don't want them to see me striking back.

---

6:29 pm: The followers of tranquility have won. Open confrontation would do me no good. Instead, I will just sweat this off at the gym later.

A Semblance of Normalcy

An old hermit once said that the body follows what the mind perceives. If the mind thinks that the body is sick, then the body withers like a plant left to thrive under sun-baked earth.

The bacteria, which currently thrives on my throat remains resistant to the antibiotics. Nevertheless, no matter how slow the recovery is, I feel much better now compared to two nights ago. The pain of swallowing remains a problem, but at least I don't choke when phlegm runs down my throat. The medical bill however is a different story. Since I am required to take antibiotics three times a day which cost a hundred per tablet, maintaining the medicine cuts deep into my pocket. If I let my hedonistic aspirations take over my priorities when I recover, there is no doubt that I will end up in the red long before the new month arrives.

In such precarious state, I am left with only two choices: Extend my rest day by calling another sick leave, or force myself back to work so I can earn my keep. It would be easy to call in sick, since my mother had already intervened yesterday on my behalf. The supervisors will surely understand my condition since I never go absent on critical days like today. However, I realized that resting did not do wonders to improve my condition. On the contrary, being bedridden left a stench of sickness that I am still trying to fumigate out of my room.

So I went to work to earn money.
And my income for today will go directly to buying medicines tomorrow.

The thought of earning is already a plausible reason to take risk and compromise my being. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't used my sick leaves since the policy was implemented at work a few years ago. I could use it now to cover my expenses, but there are deeper reasons why I have to go to work.

The mind desperately seeks any semblance of normalcy - even if illness had taken over my bodily functions. And like the hermit said on the opening sentence, to let the mind perceive an improved reality, might convince the body to believe that such reality truly exists.

Even if in truth, they are not.

The eight-hour shift went smoothly. I did what the clients expect me to do and on the sidelines, I was able to update my friends who were in Yahoo Messenger about my condition. Except for some occasional shift in body temperature and some punctured moments where I thought that my throat will give up, things were almost normal.

I even went to the gym after work, hoping that I could just sweat out the toxins.

The repercussions however, is a different matter. The threat of an imminent backfire remains a sharp pole that is lodged on my throat. As my tonsils begin to act up again, and my body temperature starts swinging erratically, leaving me close to shivering under the sheets,

I have at least achieved something only morons would ever dare doing:

Push myself to the edge of my limits.

The liberation for the throat remains a protracted battle, but the semblance of normalcy remains a beacon of hope. Come hell or high water, it is my fervent wish that I will fully recover before the next week begins.

---

-tobecontinued-

Retention

September 22, 2008


F.S.Geronimo
Managing Director, Chatzone Plc
Techron Towers, Maria Mercedes, San Juan


Dear Mr. Geronimo


I love this company so much, that I may never forgive myself for failing you, Ms. Mami Athena and everyone who counted on me that night. The major blunder I committed two weeks ago was a very close call. We nearly lost our client for what had happened.

The guilt seeps in like poison. Much as I would like to atone for my mistakes, the guilt haunts me in a manner that is affecting my work performance. I now consider myself a liability to the company and the best course of action is to disconnect myself as soon as possible rather than risk committing bigger errors in the future.

Therefore, it pains me to arrive at this decision: I tend my resignation effective October 15, 2008.

It is my sincerest desire to see Chatzone Plc continue to grow and prosper under your leadership. Thank you for the friendship, camaraderie, and most especially for all the lessons you have taught me in my long and fruitful stay in the company.

Thank you very much for everything

Sincerely yours,


Signed.

---

"Mami, the moment I post my resignation letter in the blog, it means I'm staying for good." My surrogate mom just smiled the afternoon I told her of my announcement.

The whirlwind courtship with another company proved too successful, I was given a job offer three days after I submitted my application. The new company promises bigger compensation, less working hours (6 hours) and a chance to grow in their company since they had just set office here in the country. It was a slice of paradise that is within grasp and all I have to do is grab it by my hand and take a bite at the opportunity to my heart's delight.

As stated in the resignation letter, I committed a big error that almost cost us our biggest account. The succeeding aftershocks shattered all confidence in me that I began to question my relevance to the company. The following week, the team leader who was suppose to pull me from the slump rubbed more salt to my wounded ego. Instead of being emphatic to my situation, she had a field day spotting my errors and threatened me with a memo. Everyone was tense. The clients were furious and the pressure was building up in the team. The second time I caught her attention, I broke down to tears and threatened her with a resignation.

She mellowed down immediately and became more supportive to the team a few days later. I found out this afternoon that the reason for her intensity a few weeks ago was her pregnancy with her first baby.

Going back, I pushed through with my plans despite her change of heart. However, just when I was given the free hand to leave by the only person who can convince me to stay,

I overturned my decision and decided to remain with her and the company.

The boss, the team leader and the other operators who are still loyal to the company despite the growing frustrations everyone has to face daily will never know how close I was to resigning. I decided to follow my heart and let attachments rule over my better judgment.

Hope that when the time comes when my friends who joined the new company celebrates their promotions and salary increases, I would find myself celebrating with them. Just like what the HR of the new company promised when she was handing down the job offer, I'd find myself promoted...

Here in the company I decided to stay.

With all the promotions, compensations and benefits I turned down, all in the name of faith.

---

*names of boss and office withheld.

Petunia In An Onion Patch

Will you pick it up and put it in your salad dressing knowing that this is the Onion patch it came from?

---

Walong oras ako tigas na tigas kanina.

Badtrip nga eh, baka may nakakita sa aking pinipisil si batutuy kasi aroused rin ako sa mga sinasabi ko. Sensya na, pervert lang talaga ako. The more na nasty yung mga sinasabi sakin, mas lalo akong natuturn on. Buti na lang wala akong katabi.

Minsan, gusto ko tuloy itanong sa mga kasama ko lalo na dun sa mga straight na lalaki kung sila rin ba tinatablan ng libog sa trabaho namin. Nagwoworry tuloy ako kasi special case ang sa akin.

Pero hindi lahat, sex ang habol sayo. Gaya sa totoong buhay, merong pang-kama ka lang at meron rin namang totoong seryoso ang pakikitungo sayo.

Nakakaawa lang kasi bilang tao, nararamdaman mo yung need nila. Kahit alam mong peke lang yung mga "hugs at kisses" mo, na pa tweetums lang yung concern na binibigay mo sa ka-text mo, sa kanila big deal yun.

At alam mong big deal yun sa kanila kasi ikaw mismo, nagmemelt rin.

- Confessions of the Real Model, June 12, 2005

*

I woke up this morning from someone's phonecall.

It was my boss and he was calling from the US. He was extremely furious and his first words were "Asan Ka Na? Wala ka pa ba sa opisina? Anong oras na?!?!" Since I just woke up, I was perfectly defenseless.

Rolling out from the bed and into the computer. I told him that I am logging on from home, which was acceptable but not really a good resort. It was 6:30 and I said that I woke up late because I went out last night.

From there, his furiousness further increased. He was raging mad and I was recieving the full brunt of it.

- Countdown to Termination, September 25, 2005

*

Significant changes are happening in the office these past few weeks.

There was a massive recruitment going on, for we have been constantly flooded by text messages coming from abroad.

Overnight, I have become one of the oldest workers in the group. Everyone I knew when I was just starting was already gone.

And even mami admitted that she would be working at home beginning this week.

Somehow the changes made me feel very alone.

- Under the Textron Sun, November 9, 2005

*

"I have to tell you something," He said.

"Anu yun dude?" I asked him, with a half guess in my head.

"Wag na lang..." was his reply. Apparently, he was having second thoughts of spilling out the beans.

Then, silence fell between us.

"Ano nga yun,"

I insisted a couple of times more. But he was really hesitant to say what he wanted to convey to me. so there was silence between us. Suddenly, without any warning, he held my hand and put it firmly and forcefully between his legs. I felt a massive bulge.

"Would this mean anything to you?" He asked.

At that moment, I was virtually powerless to make any reactions. Never did I guess that I would eventually reach the point, where I tried to consciously and persistently avoid this past few months.

- Eyes Wide Shut, March 5, 2007

*

Mami Athena calls him the Princess because according to her, he is cute and fragile looking. Wanda Ilusyonada, who is his close friend back in college also addresses him in the same manner. He is a tall, very lean gentleman with a remarkable chinito facial features that puts him in the category of good-looking guys in the office. Compared to my rugged and brute disposition, he is a class act. Armed with an exceptionally outstanding fashion sense and a penchant for creativity - particularly in the field of visual arts, he stands out among the rest.

- Prelude to An Alliance, June 02, 2007

*

The interviewer lead us to the dining table and introduced himself as Francis. He is the boss of the start-up company that is interested to hire us. As he gave a brief history of the company, he took a bundle of teen and adult magazines scattered in one of the chairs near him. He then pointed the several advertisements in those magazines looking for text mates. We read the advertisements from each of the magazines and when we were already getting an idea about the nature of work we will be doing, Francis told us that our job is to respond to incoming text messages in the computer pretending that we are the text mates of the users.

- Appleseed, June 14, 2007

*

I got off the FX at the gas station. Then I boarded a tricycle that would take me to my office. It was raining when I arrived. When Mami saw me, she thought I just came from the gym.

I never told her what happened. Instead, I asked her for a stick of Phillip Morris and then quietly went to the small bathroom, which I dubbed the "Panic Room" for its importance on my well-being.

The boss arrived and caught me by surprise. Much as I would like to hide, he saw me smoking. Since it was strictly prohibited to smoke inside the premises, I thought I was a goner. Luckily, the boss didn't mind my presence since he was busy instructing the QA Department of some changes in the company. You see, we have a new account and its anticipated arrival kept everyone busy the whole day yesterday.

After I've done smoking, I went to the HR Room where the reception area and the pantry is located. I told the people there that I'd just like to make tambay, which they merely responded with a puzzled look. Settling at the pantry, I took my readings out of my bag and quietly studied there, until the boss noticed me and volunteered his private office at the other side of the floor.

I declined his offer out of embarrassment.

- Sanctuario, August 8, 2007

*

Inamin sa akin ni Princess na kinakabahan siya sa bagong assignment. Ganun rin ang pakiramdam ko matapos ang aming briefing.

Ngunit gaya sa isang palabas sa sine kung saan narealize ng mandirigma ang halaga ng kanyang bahagi bago ito sumugod sa digmaan, ang awakening sa akin ay naganap rin kinagabihan ng aming briefing.

Kasama ang trainer, inaya kami ng boss sa isang munting bonding matapos ang briefing ng mga panggabi sa aming kumpanya. Nagkataon lang ang aking pagsama sapagkat noong nalaman ko na uuwi mag-isa ang trainer noong gabing yun, nagpasya akong hintayin siya't ihatid pauwi.

After all, sino bang anak-anakan ang hahayaan ang kanyang nanay-nanayan na umuwi mag-isa ng hatinggabi?

Sa inuman, silang dalawa ang nagkwentuhan samantalang ako naman ay mataimtim na nakinig sa kanilang usapan. Marami akong nalaman, na bilang isang mangagawa lamang ay hindi ko na dapat marinig pa. Ngunit noong gabing iyon, ipinaramdam nila sa akin kung gaano ako kabahagi ng kumpanya. Bilang isa sa mga pioneer dito, na-realize ko na malaki ang gagampanan kong role para sa ikatatagumpay ng account.

- Frontliners, April 20, 2008

---

These are some of the memories I will be leaving if I choose exodus over atonement. The courtship was a resounding success and the perks I will be getting is something I have never received in my three long years of stay in my job.

Mami Athena now knows of my plans and being the surrogate mother she has always been, I have her blessings. She told me to plant myself in places where I would truly grow. The new company promises many things that are too good to be true, I am afraid that they are all but mere deceptions.

Research told me however of a different story.

My resignation letter is safely tucked inside my bag and can be deployed at a moment's notice. However, personal values hesitate me from executing my plan.

I cannot leave someone behind.

With this in mind, new plans will have to be implemented.

Since my sister is also currently looking for a job, I can give up my slot and let her take my slice of heaven. She deserves to be in paradise more than I do and the laws of profession dictates that we can never be in the same company together.

She will have my place.

However, if she chooses to decline my offer, that is the time I will reconsider.

Depending on the conditions in the Onion Patch, even Petunias like me also yearn to be included in someone's garden salad.

---

-tobecontinued-

Courtship

The heart is a muscle that pumps blood into the veins. The blood carries oxygen to the brain enabling us to reason with logic when emotions get shaken by a series of roller-coaster events. When the heart begins to doubt, the mind questions its being. It becomes unresponsive to stimulus leaving the blood, the organs and the body lethargic.

It's been more than a week since my soul was driven out of my body. As a result, I've been mostly paranoid, afraid and unable to answer with clarity when someone asks me their fate for the day. In my kind of living - where I allow others to feed on my soul, what is essential is that I am one with myself. Once I become the other who seeks constant re-assurance from someone stronger, how can I stand and be a guide for others?

I am writing in codes so no need to decipher what is being written. Just look at the stars, the labels and the constellations and you will know what I meant all along.

*

It wasn't easy to get crushed and I tried my best to paint my gloominess with a fake smile. My silence reeks of agony and those close to me must have felt the pain. I am just human not to feel anything about it. I tried to keep still, but nightmares kept on haunting me. When I'm not reading someone's future, I preoccupy myself reading mine.

Will I commit the big mistake again?

How long before I finally accept that it wasn't just my mistake all along?

Will they blame me when the gods from the other side suddenly leaves when they find better worshipers?

I try not to think about it, but the guilt is always stirring me.

*

So I cast my eyes into another world one sunny afternoon, and what I saw is a gorgeous lady whose slender features remind me of wide open spaces, empty floors, quiet cubicles and an enterprise that is just about to take flight at a time when the heavens seem crashing down to the earth.

I want to be there when the turbulent waters evaporate over the clear blue sky. I hope that rainbows will restore my faith back into me.

*

Blame my attachment if I shed a tear while writing this confession. It is not easy to part ways, especially when you know where your heart is in place. But I cannot stand the nightmare anymore. I cannot last a day thinking what if the same mistake happens again in the near future.

I promise that I would never tell the heartaches I keep and I will always treasure the best memories should this new lady take my hand and let me become her concubinus. Let the pain be mine for I know, things will turn better if I get over this.

I just want you to know that the courtship will take place later.

And even if I don't get considered, my desire to seek a new destiny has now entered my stream of consciousness

Much as I would like to gain atonement for all the things that I've done, consider this entry my prelude to saying goodbye.

---

-tobecontinued-

Gangsta

Work.

Stress, from having to pep talk with the boyfriend. Gloom, from having to bear with the foul weather. Shift would have been a monotony like yesterday, if it was not broken today by having to wear a new body-fit shirt given by a friend last week. Such changes become a pleasant distraction to how my life run in circles these past few days.

Work.

I am being paid to carry someone else's emotional baggage. For some reasons, the pep talk with the boyfriend spilled over and inspired my answers to be extra compassionate to people I chat over the computer. I cannot remember how the conversation began, but what I know is that I was one of the user's "personal psychic." I am sure it started with a "love" problem: A pregnant wife complaining about everything; a tired heart seeking new possibilities with another person.

"Please understand that her pregnancy makes her emotions a little unstable. Think of her reactions as a result of the uncertainty she is feeling for the child." It was a safe answer. But I doubt if such advice will work for me.

The subject changed from love to life. In my profession, you always have to be the optimist no matter how you live your life in the darkness. The pureness of my intentions must have won the user that he began confessing his anxieties about the future believing I was a psychic. Remembering my friend Biela, it doesn't take a real psychic to read someone's feelings. A little act of empathy will win you a person so long as you try to feel his situation.

Which makes you think, will empathy become a prized commodity someday?

The text exchanges continue. "Will I have a better life in the future?"

"The Tarot Cards reveal a bright future ahead of you. Believe in your potentials and the universe will do the rest." I answered.

"But the other psychics tell that I am destined to become a failure? Should I believe them or not?"

"Why do you have to believe someone who will put you down? I believe you. Soar high and become the person you really want to be."

Why is it easier to find the weakness of others, instead of making them feel better by propping up their strengths?

"Tell me something about myself?"

"What I know is that you are longing to find your missing pieces. I sense brokenness in you. Despite you feelings of aimlessness, I sense that you are a deep and good person."

Playing god is fun, especially when you use your powers to draw the better sides of the person who thinks you are a god.

"There is no doubt that you will finish school and get your dream job someday. Never let go of your dreams and persevere to achieve them no matter how hopeless the situation is."

To be honest, I am not sure if my responses were correct. I am not even certain whether my replies were just sugar-coated deceptions or the inspiration came from my higher intentions of making someone believe of a better life. All I know is that the guy was seeking my affirmation. Being his psychic, I had to take the higher moral ground. Being his confidant, I was responsible for lifting him up.

After three hours and countless text message exchanges later, he decided to end the chat and return to the reality he has to live everyday. We talked about many things including how to earn money or how to live a healthy life. Of course, I gave answers that will not cause the clients any trouble. And yet for someone who might have limited access to information, what I said was already a treasure trove of wisdom. Satisfied with our conversation, he said "thanks" before leaving and his last words had put a smile on my face.

Because in my line of work, I learned to put value on the words "thank you" for it meant that I did a good job. It meant that I was able to connect with someone who sought my advice, even if such advice came from my inner capriciousness that I based on my mood. In the long course of talking to people, I encountered anxious teens - girls who were merely suspicious whether their boyfriends cheat on them or not; girls who sought the chance of a relationship with their crushes, boys who hoped for a reconciliation with their exes, and people who had doubts about their sexuality.

I'm so used to dealing with petty issues,

that when someone asks the meaning of life

and then tells later that he is actually capable of committing acts of extreme violence,

An immense feeling of astonishment surges from within me.

For in all our grand and ambitious attempts to impose a certain stereotype to the people we encounter, life draws a wild card and shakes the very order of things we have imposed upon our surroundings.

"My hood is very violent. I am a member of a gang."

Who would have thought it was gangsta I tried to set free.

Meanwhile

It was past eleven when I returned to the office to pick up Mami Athena. She had to do overtime work training the graveyard shift team leaders about the new policy being implemented on the floor. I learned last Monday that the training would end at past midnight. Being her surrogate son and closest friend, I insisted on taking her home myself.

Whenever her working hours would fall under my shift, I'd eagerly volunteer to be her escort. She would complain that such extra effort would be a burden for me. "Huwag na kasi Mugen at mapapalayo ka pa sa pag-uwi." She would violently react the moment I point my finger telling her I'd be her escort for the night. But when I show up after my shift, her face would light up with a sigh of relief. If I could lay down my life for my real mom, would it make any difference if I offer my time, effort and personal security to one of the few people who really knows me?

I don't know how many times she read my thoughts whenever we smoke together. But in many ways, those little joints we had proved to be my life jacket in times my sensibilities get challenged. I don't run and cry when things get nasty. Instead, I'd ask for a stick of Phillip Morris and smoke it like there's no tomorrow. As I puff the stick, I would project an aura of aloofness - like she does - and make it appear to the world that I am in control.

Such is the power of ladies I rarely see in men these days.

I went back to the office after making my piece with the partner. He appeared frail, timid and exhausted, and if not for my icy distance towards him, his bothersome leanness would instantly tear down the walls I erected between us.

It shows that I am concerned. It proves that I am not yet ready to tread my own separate way.

Back at the office, Mami Athena found me seated on one of the steps across her room. I was entranced in my prayer when suddenly, the door swung open and her meeting with the team leaders finished much earlier.

And it is as if the heavens were watching my moves, she interrupted my Hail Mary's to tell that we just have to wait for the boss before we leave.

Free meal and booze might rain down on us tonight.

The last time he showed up at the middle of the night, he invited us for a late night snack in one of the bars lining Wilson Street. I had a great time listening to the boss as he recounted the days when the company almost closed down after its biggest client pulled the plug on us. Mami Athena was listening of course. She was already with the company when tragedy struck. Between then and now, things have been very different. All output is being monitored and there are now strict guidelines as to how we act our jobs.

Remembering how it all began, and hearing how the boss broke down when defeat was imminent made me realize how lucky I am to witness all these changes.

I became a fanatic that night.

Tonight however, things were different.

Instead of stopping over for some drinks and talks, the boss drove Mami Athena to her place in Quezon City. Lucky for us, for we won't have to haggle with cab drivers over the boxes of instant coffee that Mami got from one of her side projects. I would have gotten off at Mami's place. But as a gesture of respect to the boss, I accompanied him back to the office, where his apartment lies a few blocks away.

It was fun hanging out with the big guys. Though I always look like a saling ket-ket when Mami and the boss talk, the juicy bits of information I get from their conversation makes me the most gifted rank-and-file officer on the floor.

Tonight however, one thing that sets this escort duties for Mami Athena different from other escort duties I performed before is that I was able to rise up from the slump and see the profoundness of things I rarely feel nowadays.

Mami Athena's companionship will always be a treasure.

But it was the brief soulful joyride on my boss' brand-new Mitsubishi Grandis that made me realize that life is like a car that can be driven in two ways:

Step hard on the gas when the road is smooth and empty

and harder on the brakes when the path gets bumpy.

Jansport

Paano mo masasabi na may sanib ang bag mo?

Alam ko ang iba sa inyo ay nag-iisip. Heto na naman ako't pinapairal ang pagiging mapamahiin ko. Sabagay, paano naman sasaniban ang isang bag eh hindi naman iyon gumagalaw. Ang mas malaking tanong doon ay kung ano ang ginagawa ng isang bag na sinasaniban? Ito ba'y nagsasalita ng Latin o kaya'y tinatagasan ng berdeng likido gaya doon sa palabas na the Exorcist? Ito ba'y nagbo-bounce at pilit nagpupumiglas sa pagkakasabit niya sa balikat upang kumaripas ng takbo't magpahabol sa daan?

Well,

Hindi naman ganun ka-exaggerated ang kwento ng Jansport backpack kong may sanib. Ang mahalaga ay mapalitan ko na ito hangga't maaga - bago pa maisipan nitong gawan ng hindi maganda ang cellphone, wallet at iPod ko.

Ganito kasi ang nangyari.

Tanghaling tapat kanina, umalis ako ng bahay (matapos makipaglaro sa telepono sa isang binatilyong nakilala ko somewhere) na makulimlim na ang kalangitan. Wala pa ako sa may pintuan ng biglang bumuhos ang pagkalakas-lakas na ulan. It's raining mew-mew and aw-aw nga. Badtrip. Mabuti na lang at may jacket ako't payong na dala. Gusto ko man magpatila subalit mahuhuli ako sa trabaho. Bukod dito'y nag-aalala rin ako na baka abutan ng baha sa daan. Mabuti na ang mabasa na astang koboy. Ang mahalaga'y makapag-time in ako sa bundy clock sa tamang oras.

Gaya nga ng sabi ko'y inabutan na ako ng ulan sa daan. Hindi naman ako nabasa, ngunit dahil ugali ko na isabit ang pulang backpack sa aking likuran tuwing ako'y naglalakad, lahat ng tubig ulan na bumabagsak sa aking maliit na payong ay umaawas sa bag. Huli ko na nalaman na hindi pala waterproof ang bag ko. Ang kinalabasan, nabasa ang lahat ng gamit sa loob nito.

Double Badtrip.

Mabuti na lamang at hindi ako nagdadala ng libro o kaya naman ay school papers tuwing pumapasok sa trabaho. Nasa isang plastic container naman ang baon kong Oatmeal at plastic jug naman ang gamit ko sa pag-inom ng tubig kaya cool lang mabasa ang bag ko. Ang problema nga lang, medyo mabigat ang karga ko papasok. Dumaan kasi sa aming baranggay ang NFA kaninang umaga at dahil bagsak presyo ang kanilang binebentang bigas, sinamantala ito ng aking mga kasambahay at hinoard ang mga rice packs na magkakasya sa iniwang pera ng nanay ko.

At dahil may naalala akong isang taong medyo taggutom ngayong mga araw, humingi ako ng rice pack na kasalukuyang pinaparada ng mga hoarders sa aming sala. "Para sa customs," ang hirit ko sa mga nagdaraan. Hindi naman sila nagreklamo, bagkus ay masaya pa silang nagbigay sa akin ng isang rice pack ng bigas.

Malalim na ang tubig sa may JRU nang makarating ang sinasakyan ko dito. Nagmagandang loob pa nga akong akayin ang isang babae upang siya'y hindi malaglag sa baha habang sumasakay ng FX nang ito ay pumarada malapit sa isang bangketa. Mabuti na lamang at napalitan na ng ambon ang malakas na ulan. Kaya naman wala ng hassle noong ako ay bumaba ng sasakyan malapit sa Acacia Lane.

Sumakay ako ng tricycle na magdadala mismo sa akin sa tapat ng opisina. Sa kasamaang palad, malalim pala ang baha na daraanan ng aking sinasakyang motor. "Itaas mo yung mga binti mo boy," utos sa akin ng driver. Dali-dali ko naman siyang sinunod kaya kahit dalawang pulgada lang ang pagitan ng tubig baha sa aking upuan ay nakaahon naman kami ng hindi nababasa ang aking puwitan.

Ayus na sana ang lahat, maliban na lamang sa aking karimarimarim na nadiskubre nang mapansin kong bukas ang zipper ng aking bag.

Sa totoo, ang Jansport na gamit ko ay pag-aari ng utol ko. Nagkasundo kaming magpalit nang minsang naimbitahan siyang magbakasyon sa Baguio kasama ng aming tiyahin. Marahil ay nagustuhan niya ito kaya niya inari ang backpack pagbalik niya ng Maynila. Mapagpaubaya naman ako kaya't hindi ko rin ito na binawi sa kanya.

Subalit may mariing babala ang kapatid ko bago niya binigay sa akin ang kanyang backpack. Ang zipper daw nito ay kusang bumubukas lalo pa at mabigat ang nilalaman nito.

At nangyari nga kanina ang pinapangambahan ng utol ko.

Sa dinami-dami ng maaring malaglag sa loob ng bag gaya ng aking baunan o kaya naman ay yung mabahong cologne na binili ko sa Adidas noong isang linggo, ang nahulog pa ay yung tumbler at yung kulay asul na rosaryo na ginagamit ko sa pagdarasal bago magsimula ang shift sa trabaho. Madali lang naman magpalit ng rosaryo. Ang nakakapanghinayang nga lang ay ito ang rosaryo na na siyang nakapagpabalik-loob sa akin.

Mabuti na nga lamang at natagpuan ko pa sa upuan ng tricycle ang kasama nitong prayer booklet.

Come to think of it. Dalawa sa mga sacred items na sumasalamin sa aking kabutihan ang sinuka na ng Jansport bag ng utol ko.

Una ay si Dominus.

Pangalawa ay ang aking rosaryo.

Kung hindi ka ba naman magdududa sa pagka sa-demonyo ng bag na ginagamit ko ay ewan ko na lang.

Santo

"Kung ganyan ay diretso ka kaagad sa banyo. Yung tipong walang masyadong dumadayo. Sabi sayo, hindi ko sinasanto ang mga bathrooms dito sa amen. Hehe."

- a reply to Binxtdor's post, Ang Sarap ng Precum, pinoyexchange.com

---

Alas-sais ng hapon ngayong gabi. Nagising ako matapos ang pasimpleng pag-idlip na inabot rin ng mahigit isang oras. Bagot at wala pa ring ginagawa sa trabaho, dumiretso ako sa banyo upang umihi at manalamin.

Habang pinagmamasdan ang sarili, isang maharot na ideya ang sumagi sa aking kukote.

Dali-dali kong ni-lock ang pinto sabay takbo sa pinakadulong cubicle. Gamit ang mga gasgas na sex scenes na ginawa ko noong ako'y palaban pa, hinayaan kong tumagas na parang pre-cum ang kalibugan sa tulong ng aking mayamang imahinasyon.

Nakatayo sa harap ng toilet, sinimulan kong himasin si Junior. Hindi pa natatapos ang isang minuto'y tanggal na ang aking sinturon at nakababa na ang butones ng aking pantalon.

Pigil kamay kong binayo si Putotoy.

Taas...

Baba...

Ahhhhh..

Matigas, namumula, lumalaki, humahaba, naglalaway. Heto ang tugon ng aking alaga habang patuloy at pabilis ng pabilis ang salsal ko rito.

Kay sarap sanang ginagawa ito ng may kasama.

Sa utak, pilit kong inaalala ang lahat ng mga pinagagagawa ko noon. Sa tropa kong masahista sa Extreme, sa bathhouse sa Pasay, sa mga nagparaos sa akin na namit ko sa internet noon. Pilit kong binabalik-tanaw yung mga porn moments na ngayo'y hindi ko na magawa-gawa; Yung mga malalaki't matataba na naging matinding hamon sa akin noon. Yung mga hayup na nagpadugo sa aking...

... labi

Shit... Malapit na.

Heto na..

Tangina...

Plok. Plok. Plok. Tatlong putok ng Mount Pinatubo.

Timing na timing na habang ako ay nilalabasan ay biglang bumukas ang pinto.

Yung car agent sa katabing opisina namin. May susi pala siya ng banyo.

"Sino yung mga kasama mo sa Quattro noon?" Pangisi niyang tanong sa akin.

"Ah mga barkada ko. Tambay ka rin pala doon." Sagot ko habang pina-flush ang toilet sa paraang pag-apak sa plunger nito.

"Oo. Noong minsang nag-inuman kami dun, may nag-away sa malayong table. Lahat ng customers na naipit sa loob, pinauwi. Libre lahat ng ininom at kinain."

"Astig!!"

Umaasa akong hindi niya nahuli ang aking kalokohan. Jahe kasi kung nagkataon. Subalit, sa tanda niyang iyon ay naiintindihan niya na may pangangailangan na kailangang tugunan ni Kelly Kamay.

Sorry na lang sa dudumi't uupo sa inidoro.

Habang siya naman ay dyumidyinggel sa katapat na urinal, pasimple akong naglakad patungo sa faucet upang maghugas ng nanlalagkit na kanang kamay.

That was fucking close!

At gaya ng mga near misses na nangyari sa akin noon, lumabas ako ng banyo na parang walang nangyari.

"Tamang tama, tatambay ulit ako sa Quattro't ti-tyempo ng away dun para makalibre." Huli kong tagubilin sa aking kasama.

Bumalik ako sa cubicle na malinis ang kamay,

at tanggal ang kati sa katawan.

Workstation Politics

The boss decided that the special accounts operators will have their separate computers from now on. The new units arrived this afternoon, after our colleagues from the morning shift complained that the reason for their message response delay was the slow processing of their machines. With the recent acquisition came permanence in our work stations. We can even personalize our little cubicles now that we consider it an extension of our territory.

The new computers are a welcome addition to our growing privilege of being the elite operators of the company. In truth however, the problem lies not with the old, corrupted machines but with the client's redundant and ultra sophisticated web interface that we use for their account. Only the gleaming promise of using newer and faster computers prompted me to accept the change - even if it means giving up my cubicle, which is found at the coldest fringes of the Floor.

Now the problem lies with my other colleagues preferring the solitary confinement we enjoyed in our old work stations. You see, our former cubicles are situated outside the boss' path of inspection when he goes to his little office. Our screen also faces the wall so it's very easy for us to view websites that the official memo strictly prohibits from being accessed. I will have to think twice of checking MGG's website at work now that my screen is in full view of everyone.

Twice, I sought reconsideration from the boss, citing that our old cubicles were more conducive to creative thinking. I even suggested that instead of being moved to the middle row, we could just occupy the single row where our former stations were situated. Unfortunately, the boss said that we should reconsider the operators from other shifts who preferred sitting in the middle row instead of being hidden, like us on the last row. Since it was the boss who gave the final word, not even Mami Athena could appeal for our behalf.

It's goodbye nappy time for me.

Now that we have been uprooted from our former cubicles again, everyone - from the rookies who were hired three weeks ago, to the password hackers among my colleagues are rushing to reclaim our stations.

As for us, we got faster computers. But we have to adjust to our new grounds again.

---

Note: I misunderstood the boss' earlier instructions about the new seating arrangement. As a compromise to our preference with the morning shift operators, two new units will be installed in our cramped "hideaways."

Now I am assured that I can still lay claim to my old work station.

Fragmentation

Coming from the roomy reception area that also serves as the

Pantry
Recruitment Office
and the Administration and Support Department

You enter a small door that leads to the Floor. You walk across one of the aisles to reach the other end whose door leads to a smaller room where your cubicle is found. You pass by several colleagues seated next to each other in one row. Some of them are as old and experienced as you, while others are rookies hired just a few weeks ago. Many of them are still figuring how the job works, and often, you are tempted to do the work for them. Their cubicles never changed, only the occupants did. Sometimes, you wonder how long would they stay before somebody else take their place.

You pass by the team leader's work station before arriving at the next door. A guy in his mid-thirties, he seats comfortably in his cubicle staring at the screen to see the chat flows generated by your colleagues. His braided hair reaches the back of his neck. You ask yourself when was the last time he shampooed his hair. The team leader often sports a bright-colored shirt, always too loose for his body, and plays Reggae music on his computer. A Rasta perhaps? You don't know. However, one thing you are sure of is that he was hired a few months after you joined the company three years ago. Other than that, you are not interested to learn anymore.

Meanwhile, the assistant team leader is doing her rounds before she returns to her work station. A former team mate in the same account you were assigned a year ago, she was promoted last month after her predecessor was discharged from the company. She tries her best to exude grace despite being under constant pressure. Her trademark pink shirt, long pony-tail hair and slender body maybe a distraction to some. But her warm personality and helpful attitude toward your colleagues remind you why she was assigned to the same account you handle five days a week.

You enter another door that leads into a smaller room. Half of its occupants, you only recognize through their faces. These are the trainees who directly report to your surrogate mother, the great Mami you seek every time you wanted to take a break. She runs a small empire down below, which your other colleagues know as the QA Department. Since the QA is so far away from the hustle and bustle of your Floor, it seems like they have a world of their own a floor below. Their place in the universe make you jealous that you are tempted so many times to join them. However, looking at how you run your own show, you always prefer to be where the action is.

Now these trainees, for reasons only known to them, can sense your place in the order of things. Maybe it was your own carelessness in telling the lore of your company to some of your juniors that accidentally (or deliberately) gave hints that you are a pioneer - that you are one of the oldest operators in the job they chose to embrace. Sometimes, these stories left awe and wonder in their eyes. They become like you - when you were the one listening to the fairy tales told by the forefathers of the last job you accepted. However, when they begin asking you why you never got promoted despite your status, you tell them lame reasons,

which sometimes make you think, when you are alone in your cubicle.

You hear some of your friends get salaries twice or thrice you are recieving. You listen to others announce their career move from one company to another and recieve the paycheck of their dreams. You secretly get jealous when they talk of things they can enjoy with their money, while you, who works quietly for three years doesn't even have the basic perks your better-off friends are raving when you get together during reunions.

It makes you ponder, and you become fearful of your future.

You continue walking towards your cubicle. You ignore these alarming thoughts which began to bother you after the new recruits arrived three weeks ago. Instead, you look forward to your surrogate mom's wishful promotion, hoping that her rise would comfort you with the achievements you shared together. You reach your station, held the mouse and wobble it a bit. The screen saver, showing a flying Windows Logo on a black screen has now disappeared, and you, being emotionally invested in your job

Keep your concerns to yourself.

It might be a long wait, but who knows where this career path would eventually lead you.

---

Tatlong taon na ako sa trabaho ngayong linggo. At dahil ako na ang pangalawa sa pinakamatagal na empleyado dito, ako lang ang nakaalala.

The Return Of P-Man

pman™ says:
nakuwento naba ni rikuo pinaka wild na ginawa ko nung nag inom kami nila kuhol..

pman™ says:
it was kuhol's bday

mugen says:
nope

mugen says:
what happened?

pman™ says:
haha naging wild ako.. ayun na tripan ko si kuhol

mugen says:
ingat ka hehe.

pman™ says:
HAHA

pman™ says:
sanay nako sa ganon pag nalalasing ako

mugen says:
ganon ba

mugen says:
yun nga kwento mo sa akin.

pman™ says:
thrice ko ng nagagawa yun sa mga str8

mugen says:
ahh

pman™ says:
hehe but hey, im not proud of it LOL

pman™ says:
pero wala naman masyadong wild..

---

It was as if someone from above was making fun of my situation. Out of thin air, P-man suddenly went online this afternoon only to have a chat with me. I do not know what his reasons were and I am not interested to find out. Probably he was just dead bored and needed someone to talk to. You see, even though we pretend not to see each other at the floor, we consider ourselves in good terms. Once in a while, I'd learn a thing or two about him but these things doesn't matter like they used to be when I was still attached to him.

So we had a talk. We updated each other's lives and I found out many things about him. He said that he prefers to stay home and download tons of mp3s from the net. He also misses drinking with the guys that he used to harass after he gets drunk.

Minutes had turned to hours and before I knew it, our conversation became the longest we ever had since we got introduced two years ago. What I found so strange about our chat was I did not accommodate him just to prolong our conversation. The conversation that was full of hot air came out naturally and even if he remained the no-care-in-the-world person that he had always been, I was able to assert myself long enough to give him the impression that I am not the same person who used to put him on the pedestal.

I do not know where this renewed ties would lead to, and it doesn't matter to me anymore. Funny how I used to see the taxi incident we had as something magical and out of this world. Now, I would just even laugh about it and blame my stupidity for giving in. The conversation had validated that I'm ready to speak to him in equal terms. Gone are the days when I would feel giddy the moment his name appears in my chat box.

Indeed, my eyes were finally open and I'm glad everything is now but a memory so far away.

---

As to the conversation above, please refer to the entry Suicide Attack (Hypercollider Remix)

Gay Marriage

Aren't they sweet?

You can see in their faces how happy they are. Never in my three years as a colleague did I see Ms. Macaldo beaming a smile like the one she gave, while snapshots were being taken during the reception. As for Mr. Pery's luscious, red lips - the same kissable lips that had cast a spell on several attractive girls in the morning shift - will be for Ms. Macaldo's private enjoyment from now on.

Strange, but no one at work was aware that a wedding took place. It wasn't announced by the HR Department, which has always been considered the source of information in the office. The last time I saw Ms. Macaldo was yesterday, she was still a he and was wearing a green striped polo and jeans that he might had bought from some Ukay-Ukay store at the Fort. He was seated on one of the workstations busy working on for his day's quota. As for Mr. Pery, I saw him smoking in the parking lot this afternoon. When confronted about the wedding picture, he insisted that he is still the same cool lover boy, no matter what the evidence had shown.

Wait... If I saw Ms. Macaldo sporting a barber's cut and wearing a guy's outfit yesterday and Mr. Pery insisting his innocence this afternoon... OMG! The photo must be the work of some Adobe trickster bent on spreading confusion across the floor. I shouldn't be posting this stolen picture knowing that many people access my blog.

Some might even be acquainted with the two lovebirds above.

The photo might get me into deep trouble.

---

But since the fake wedding picture has already been uploaded, I might use this opportunity to promote Ms. Macaldo's cause.

Dikya, as we fondly call him is a member of the Ladlad Party List. He is known for sending constant updates on email, Friendster or Multiply about the group's activities regardless of the receiver being gay or straight. I do not know of his position in the organization, but it seems like Dikya has strong connections with Danton Remoto. In several occasions, he tried to recruit me to become one of their party members. I declined his invitation out of outing concerns, but I gave my full support for the cause.

Dikya hopes that if Ladlad wins a seat in Congress in 2010, he would be given projects that focus on the improvement of lives of gay men and women in the country. I don't know what these projects are, but knowing how resourceful he is, I'm sure he would come up with activities that would reach out to a wider community.

He might be flamboyant and very effeminate, but hell yeah, Dikya is a person to be admired.

As for Mr. Pery, aside from being mistaken as an undertaker-cum-lover boy, he is one of the top income grosser among my colleagues. He claims to be straight and no one ever dares to question his preference. Life is a party, he will always say to his faithful followers.

Indeed, a party is a flop without his comedic presence.

---

I was laughing alone in my work station, when I found the picture on one of my colleague's Multipy page. I thought it would be a good subject for a spoof entry knowing that everyone has been stealing Pery and Dikya's head pics to attach them on someone else's body pics for ages.

From a harmless and funny Adobe-inspired transformation, I realized the relevance of the photo in the ongoing gay marriage debate that is becoming a national issue in most countries around the globe.

Not in my lifetime will gay marriage be allowed in the Philippines. I have come to terms with that. The issue of religious sensibility will surface; exposes of graft and corruption in high-level branches of the government will always grace the headlines; and Imbestigador-inspired bathouse raids, like the one that was shown last Saturday will always cast gay people in a bad light.

The photo above is just wishful thinking.

But who knows. With people like Dikya working non-stop for the improvement of our welfare.

Maybe... just maybe... in less than a decade, civil partnerships will be granted to gay couples in the country.

Foreign Aid

Mayroon akong katrabaho at ang pangalan niya ay Cesario.

Sa unang tingin, malalaman mo kaagad na si Cesario ay isang sanggano. Pandak, moreno, maraming tatoo sa braso at ginagawang extension ng bahay ang trabaho sa pananamit nito. Laking kanto siya't madalas na ang isyu sa buhay ay kung sino ang huling gumago sa kanya noong isang linggo.

Noong una'y walang pumapansin masyado kay Cesario. Paano kasi'y puro problemang pamilya ang kwento niya sa amin at nasawa na rin kami sa walang katapusang on-off relationship niya sa kanyang girlfriend na dalawampung taon ang bata sa kanya.

Ngunit noong nakaraang linggo, bigla siyang naging spotlight sa opisina.

Paano kasi'y bumisita ang kasintahan niyang Amerikana.

---

Overnight, parang biglang nanalo sa lotto ang drama ni Cesario.

Noong huli ko siyang nakita, nakasando siya ng black, naka-jeans ng Dockers at tadtad ng alahas sa katawan. Ang kanyang girlfriend na puti naman ay namumula dahil sa init ng panahon noong mga araw na iyon. Mabait ang babae. Hindi lang si Cesario ang sustentado, kasama pati ang mga anak nito. Tingin ko, pati nanay at tatay ni Cesario ay naambunan rin ng grasyang dala ng kanyang Amerikanang girlfriend.

Bigla-bigla, naging ginto ang lahat ng earings ng aking katrabaho. May makapal na necklace siya na balot ng ginto. Ang kanyang bracelet ay ginto rin, at kulang na lang, magmuka siyang rapper na tadtad ng bling-bling sa katawan. Dati-rati'y naglalakad lang ito pauwi ng bahay, ngunit noong huli ko siyang nakasabayan palabas ng opisina.

Pumara ng cab si Cesario upang umuwi sa kanila.

Habang kasama ang mga katrabaho sa pagyoyosi kanina, topic nila ang biglang pag-overturn ng buhay ng aming kasama. Naroon at ramdam ko ang magkahalong inggit at pagtingala sa kanya ng karamihan. Ang iba naman ay natutuwa sa kanyang natatamong karangyaan sa buhay. Ngunit, kung may downside man ang kanyang biglang pagkakaroon ng pera, naroon ang pagbabago ng ugali ni Cesario mapa-trabaho man o kaya naman ay pakikitungo sa mga katrabaho.

"Binigyan nga ako ng M&M's na tsokolate noong dumating yung girlfriend niya eh," ang sabi ng katrabahong naming bungal na lalaki.

"Huwag ka, babawiin niya sa iyo yun sa isang linggo," hirit naman ng kasamahan namin na binatang ama.

"Kwento niya sa akin, binili daw ng sofa set ang mga anak." dagdag ng aming ka-yosi na kwarenta anyos na ina.

"Hindi ba dapat pag-aaral ng anak yung pinaghahandaan niya?" Sagot naman ng katrabaho naming isa pa.

"Balita ko inaayos ang visa papuntang States. Dun yata sila magpapakasal nung babae."

"Kaya pala pumapasok sa trabaho at nawawala ng tatlong oras pagka-time in nito."

"Dapat hindi siya masyadong umasa sa babae, paano kung bitawan siya nito?"

---

Minsan naiisip ko, ano kaya't nagkaroon rin ako ng foreign aid galing sa ibang bansa. Ano kaya ang magiging epekto nito sa buhay ko?

Magkakaroon kaya ako ng pad somewhere in Makati?

Makakapunta kaya ako't makakapagbakasyon sa iba't ibang dako ng Pilipinas at hindi lang sa Tagaytay?

Magkakaroon kaya ako ng mga materyal na bagay gaya ng SLR camera at Iphone na ni sa pangarap ay kinalimutan ko nang isipin?

Maiaahon ko kaya sa kahirapan ang pamilya ko?

Aaminin ko na minsan ay hindi ko mapigilang mainggit sa mga ganitong pagbabago ng buhay. Lahat naman tayo ay nangangailangan ng pera at nangangarap ng mas magandang buhay lalo pa't pataas ng pataas ang mga bilihin ngayon.

Ngunit kung ang karangyaang ito ang magiging kapalit ng aking kakaibang pagtingin sa mundo...

Nang aking gradual na pagtalikod sa mga materyal na bagay

At ang aking pagyakap sa Spiritualism at Environmentalism.

Tingin ko, sa kanila na ang karangyaan ng buhay.

Nang dahil sa kawalan, natuto na akong maging kuntento sa mga bagay na binigay sa akin.

Tama na siguro iyon para sa ikabubuti ng mundo.

---

On the other hand, it was reported on CNN that around 30,000 lives were feared lost in Myanmar in the aftermath of cyclone Nargis. From what I've heard in the news, relief efforts were taking too long to reach the victims.

With the rest of the world reeling from rising crude prices and the threat of a global food crisis looming over the horizon, I fear that a disaster of this magnitude in the future might go unheeded.

I do not know who's to blame or where should we start in order to solve these problems, but I feel that the more people gets hungry, the nations would see themselves on their own.

Swinger State

It was a fatal mistake that of all the ungodly hours I spent every night, I decided to engage in a Babylon 5 DVD marathon last night. For in less than two hours after I had gone to sleep, I was rudely awakened by an emergency call from the office this morning.

The person who called was our portly lesbian assistant team leader. Apparently, the operator in my account from their shift felt that there was a need for him to arrive at fashionably late manner, only that, his plans did not fall on anyone's ear.

As a result, I was humbly asked to report for work.

Knowing that my presence - any operator's presence was needed for that account. I immediately got out of bed, brushed my teeth and did my morning rituals at breakneck speed. Every time it happened, I get denied to at least take a bath, or even have a leisurely walk from home going to the main street. The moment I leave the house, it's always a mad rush to get the fastest cab going to the office.

The operator in question eventually arrived just in time for my cab to stop in front of the building. At first, the ATL said that there's no need for me to go to report. However, since I was already there and it's impossible for me to get some sleep after my adrenalin had already kicked off, I decided to time in even if my presence is not needed anymore.

I won't simply torment myself spending my waking hours for more than 20 hours.

Fortunately, even in my worst lethargic state, I could respond with much skill to the questions being thrown to us by our client's users. My account partner was very much awake, but the initial slowness of his response would have gotten us into more trouble, had I not been there to provide him with support.

I did well for most of the hours I was half-awake. But as an organic lifeform that requires rest. My system bogged down just a few hours before our shift had ended. Right when everyone was busy catching up with their daily quotas, I was there sleeping peacefully on my chair.

---

This is not the first time I was asked to do a sacrifice for our new account.

The last time it happened, it was Mami who personally asked me to assist Princess to help him with the account. It was my day-off then, but work required that I should be in the office.

A few lifetimes before and I would have bitterly complained of my situation. After all, no one in his right mind would ever love to trade places with me - especially when that person finds out that I am technically on-call 24 hours a day.

But what can I say, the office has become the extension of my room. Even the HR people would answer for me every time a colleague would ask why I'm in the office when it's not my time yet for my shift. "Dito na ang bahay niyan. Kulang na lang na magdala yan ng kumot para pwede na niyang gawing bedroom yung isang kwarto." They would laugh and I would just smile at them before going back to my station, which is located at the far end of the floor.

Blame my front-liner principle for my willingness to spend long hours at work - even if my presence is not needed. Perhaps, I've taught myself to be persistent enough for this new account to grow and prosper under a selected individuals personally picked by the management itself.

I just can't let them down. That's all.

And I would not mind showing up in any shift, if it would help the company effectively comply to our new client's demands.

I just hope that in the long course of time, my personal sacrifices would not go in vain.

We have come this far and I would not want to see things crumble knowing that I could have done something;

anything for the only workplace I have grown to see as my second home.

---

btw, he-whose-name-must-not-be-mentioned (lol) does think much of you. he said to me "Di ba Jay can handle either one of these new, demanding accounts?"

I nod so much, feeling ko ako 'yung aso na display sa kotse, 'yung tango nang tango ever eternally. bwahahaha

He goes "Yes, he can. I know how good he is as an employee. Very reliable, very much at ease and skilled in the job. We're on the same page about him."

Deracinee
Twitter Blog|The Office Life

Notes From The Battlefront

Starlog 0001 082404

It's past 1 o' clock in the morning and I'm still here in the office.

My shift had ended several hours ago. But since we had started the new service this evening, everyone in the top management is busy addressing the challenges of our new account. As of this writing, Mami Athena is busy shuttling from the boss' office to where the two graveyard colleagues are seated. She's the chief coordinator of this project and being second to the boss, her meticulousness and knowledge of the account is required to make everything smooth sailing.

The boss is at his small office, a few steps away from where my temporary station is. He is the one talking to the clients as Mami throws him all problems that comes up with the service. To keep their frustration at bay, they poke fun at everything - even to the point of using their imagination to picture what our foreign counterparts look like. Everyone seems to be in the jovial mood especially after the boss threw a mini-party last midnight to welcome the new account. It would be a long night so he must make sure that everyone's spirits remain sky-high.

I don't know what my role is with the whole operation. I shouldn't be here in the first place. But since I decided to self-style myself as the front-liner, I felt that its my duty to stay and observe while my colleagues work out the solutions posed by the new project. Besides, Princess is counting on me to give him the primer before he works with the account in the morning. I'm sure that he would find the work strangely familiar but the interface - with all its technicalities would give him some initial headache before he gets familiar with the system.

The account is something we haven't seen before. But with everyone pouring their energies to make this project work, I am confident that we would succeed in the end. There is much at stake, now that we're pretty aware that we're working on a huge account. With the company on the crossroads, I don't want to be left out while others are sweating just to shape a brighter future for everyone.

It's not my habit to write double entries in a single day, but this is history we are making. In a few months - or years, when we succeed in this endeavor, I would like to look back on this entry just to savor this moment when we're all struggling.

We will survive by our wits and experience in handling this kind of service, and in the face of new colleagues that would come and make our little family swell one day, I would be very honored to retell this story of our beginnings and how we're able to overcome it as a family.

I will surely miss this night.

For when I start my shift tomorrow, I know, everything will just be happily ordinary.