Eyes NOT wide open

Waking up this morning was just horrendous. After skipping work on Friday and staying home yesterday, I was greeted by my last day of "freedom" with major itchiness and swelling in my left eye. I've been fighting the urge to see a doctor but then that damned ointment proved itself useless so I had to give in.

With my health card and pride, I braved to ask my dad (for the first time in a month now) a favor, to drive me to the ER. Blessed as I always am, he obliged.

Now, I am forced to restrict the use of antibiotic eye solutions, which sucks because of my tendencies to self-medicate and well, sometimes, overdose. The itch is still bugging the hell out of me and so is the pain every single time I blink (which, according to trivia, is twice more often than men do).

Luckily (or is it really?), the stye is somewhat inverted, or inside, meaning no disgusting puss build-up has occurred. That would look scary, not to mention annoying, especially with all the "peeping Tom" jokes I'll be getting in the office.

Based on what I've read, styes are usually borne out of bacteria, excess oil or stress. I try my best to keep my face free from oil, and I don't really stress myself out too often. The verdict then would most likely be the old sponge I've been using to put my liquid foundation on.

There, I just threw it away. Here's to literally seeing a better tomorrow.

For the first time, I can say "It's not you, it's me."

And so it's done. Who would've thought? Or maybe I should take that question back, because it's probably only me whodathunk it.

The patience and negativity have taken it's toll, alright, and now, well, for now, it's all just me again. Alone.

But also, now, well, for now, I think it's for the best.

Weekly round-up

The four day work week allowed me more room to finish a few articles for the magazine. For this issue, I believe I'm doing close to 40% of the content (of course, subject to my editor's approval) and I've got 6 left to go!! I'm so happy, especially since my deadline was moved to mid-July.

*Riding an electronic bull and going woot-woot*

I still can't believe though how I managed to spend our city's holiday last Thursday working at the Starbucks right across our street. Normally, I would savor days like this by planning some trip to the mall, doctor, dentist (my gum recession is annoying me, even if it is, in the words of my dentist, "a clean cavity") or salon. I've been too lazy to hit Shangri-la even if I dream everyday about all the sales going on, esp. at Zara and Mango. Must get more of their basic tees, etc.! I hope I could swing by tomorrow--if I don't get a hangover.

Still contemplating on whether I should go out tonight or not. One college friend is having her grad party, and so I'm crashing that (talk about class.. hah!) with one of my best girlfriends. I've been sick all day, with a nasty cough due to last night's dramedy. Also been so fidgety from all the caffeine (2 mugs of coffee + tea). My heart is beating like a mother. How do I make this normal again?

I was quite calm earlier today anyway when I was sorting out all the music and album artworks for my iTunes... SUPER GEEK! My med school friend even passed by the house and hung out for a bit for lunch before her flag football game, and I still couldn't stop sorting my Library. OC ALERT!

Goddddd. My heart is pounding so faaaaaaaaaaast. Make it stopppppppp.

Love in the time of recession

Right now, I really feel like banging my head on a wall.

Why oh why did I never listen to my friends' advice about long distance relationships? How could I have been so idealistic and assuming that everything would be peachy keen in the end?

After one happy year, everything is just going down too fast and too soon. I've been pondering on this for the past couple of days and now that plans are finally being defined, here I am with the jitters. At the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't going to be as easy as packing bags, leaving town, and starting a new life here. I blame myself partly for discounting that part of reality which I am now facing. It's gonna take at least another six months for all variables to be settled, and after already waiting for the past six months, I'm not quite sure if I can finish this dragging journey.

It's been fun, but it's also been exhausting. The idea of living a restricted but free kind of social life has become boring. Moreover, the uncertainty of the end result is even adding more pressure to the situation.

Is it worth it? I don't know. But really, how do you measure a year?
And what do you do once you've realized it's been wasted waiting for something you can no longer wait for?

The world is yours?!?

Listening to Nas's song on my way up to the 20th floor today seemed so appropriate the second we landed on the 10th. The doors opened, and about five call center agents, rowdy, like how they mostly are, came in and pressed the number 11 button.

Now, if my calculations are correct, that's just about one floor up...

And what, they couldn't take the stairs?!?

UGH.

One thing I loathe about my building is that in its 40 or so levels, there are about 3-4 FREAKING CALL CENTER COMPANIES operating in at least 7 floors (I haven't done the Math). And I'm not gonna lie--with people like that populating your workplace, it can get nasty.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for the booming BPO industry and the wonders it has provided for the economy and people. But why is it that every time I see or listen to CSRs/TSRs behave and talk, I feel as if some of them think the whole world owes them a living?

In particular, I HATE it when I'm on my way to the ground, alone and hoping for a smooth and uninterrupted ride, and then the cage stops on 11 because some poor loser can't use his God-given legs to go down to the 10th. I don't own the elevator (and on these occasions, I really wish I did) but think about it. I'm sure most people wait longer for the lift to come, thinking that it's more convenient than taking the stairs one floor down. It's ridiculous!!

Of course, if you're part of the building's maintenance team, or someone selling lunch, or carrying a lot of things, FINE, GO AHEAD, YOU HAVE MY BLESSING. But unless you have a foot problem or no feet at all, PLEASE, have mercy on other people. Spare us your sloth!

I hope this serves as a message to anyone who is too lazy to take that extra flight down. Don't be afraid of exercise.

All in a day's work... and overtime

One major reason why I was a bit apprehensive to start a new blog was because of my propensity to keep ranting until day's end. Though I am not a high maintenance type of person, there are occasions when I find myself complaining about the littlest things. I swear, there is a difference between high maintenance and being whiny. I'm just not in the right mood to debate about it right now.

So yeah, here I go again, ranting my life away. I'm annoyed, extremely, but let's not dwell on that. Was it Wendy who said think happy thoughts? I think. Ok.

First off, I'm starting to read again.

Honestly, being forced to write everyday is getting quite tedious, especially if you don't really like the topic. Nevertheless, it's work and it's got to be good, otherwise I'd be out the window before you can say deadline. So by learning how to produce better work, I've decided to start hitting the books again, a luxury I've been robbed off since I entered college.

Right now, I'm reading my boss' book called "Even a Moron with a Dream..." and it's not bad for his first publication. Of course, this would entail another review to be written, but that's gonna be for our magazine, not here.


But if you chance upon it in your local bookstore, go ahead. It's a light read.

Once I'm done with that, I resolve to spend all my free time on something I just bought yesterday. It's by Steve Martin, who apparently, wrote Shopgirl too. Because I thought that story was quite brilliant, I was hoping this would be too.


Please resurrect my love for reading again by living up to your title.

I was also tempted to buy this other one but I guess it's way passed my prime. Still, I believe it deserves to be on this entry, purely for posterity's sake.


Now this is something every bitter woman will want. But that's not me...anymore.

(Whew, just talking about books got me on a high again!)

I don't think I need a second or third happy thought to brighten up my night because whatever has got me pissed is done, and I can't turn back time. I know that there will be more blood baths in the future, so I really have no choice (translation: I may as well buy the most stylish battle gear I can afford to lift my spirits).

After this note, I will try my best to stop being such a brat about things I'm not directly suffering for. I'm just so so SO at the brink of just typing until my keypads burn, but forget it. I'd rather run away with my Prince Charming on Skype.

Geez, my life is quite sad.

Writing 10,000 words and not making sense

REALLY bummed out because of all the deadlines I don't think I can meet. On top of the articles that have yet to be written, I've got a handful of duties and issues to deal with, both official and unofficial.

I've got a baptism to attend and an anniversary to celebrate, both coming up this weekend. For weeks, I've also been on diet limbo, which is really frustrating because now the harsh reality of being an adult (adult = slow metabolism) is becoming more evident. Plus, so much more money issues to reconcile--bills to pay, debts to collect, my pending raise, the need to buy things I have to, etc. Yes, I'm ranting.

UGH. Everything's just piling up and I'm breaking out (literally, too). I really hope this is just a menstrual syndrome--that, or the annoying weather, otherwise I'm in deep shit, dipshit.

SERIOUSLY, only one thing can make me feel better right now, and that's a good book. I've been dying to buy Haruki Murakami's 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' for days now and I might just pick it up after work today. Then go home, sip on a nice cup of tea and kill all the time I can...

BUT just thinking about my impossible workload is already getting me out of the mood.

I need a cigarette.