The title is like the popular book of Elizabeth Gilbert, which I haven’t read but I intend to. If only someone would buy it for me. Hint hint…9 days to go. 🙂
I am feeling guilt as of this moment. Because of the emotional turmoil brought by my constant whining, I lost the will to eat real food lately. Doritos and water are not good breakfast fixtures. Neither is Bread Pan (the green one), downed by Chuckie. I eat pretty decent lunch combos from the office cafeteria but their quantity doesn’t last me until dismissal time. So for about two weeks now, I’ve been a regular of The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf at Robinson’s Midtown, and since I can only afford a drink and a simple pastry, they constituted my dinner for most evenings.
Anyway, I love The Coffee Bean now but taste-wise, Starbucks is still tops, if only for the reason that it’s what I’ve been used to. I guess I’m really geting older in that I cannot stand people flocking a small coffee house with incessant chatter filling the room. Back then, it’s my place to be, I mean, I can get lost in hundreds of pages of books with people talking around me. It’s not that The Coffee Bean doesn’t get flocked to; it does but I think it has to do with its space, something that gives you the feeling that you will not be suffocated anytime soon. Plus it has free wifi. Their hot and cold drinks, a few pesos more expensive than Starbucks and Figaro, and offer nothing really astonishing, are something you get used to eventually. And lately, I’ve been a Tropical Fruit chai latte addict! I don’t know how long I’d stay before jumping to UCC.
Okay, going back, I felt good about zipping pants without much effort, not having much of button-popping from blouses, after I observed the less eating drama. Until I ate heavily a while ago and I can feel putting back on, and more, the few pounds I managed to lose. Pizza, chicken, potatoes and tea are wrong in many ways.
I’ve been occupied by ranting that I forego praying hard lately. I am a pretty prayerful person, you know, and I’m proud of it. I may prefer not attending mass and celebrating that whole hour but I do pray very hard and I know my messages always get across.
I am also someone who asks for signs a lot. I probably have confused the signs more often than not but they got me through. Going back to my issue, much to your irritation, about my studies, I asked for a sign – in the form of a chance – to determine if I should still go for it, granting that I say International Studies (and studying in general) isn’t cut out for me but I’m still here for the past year and a half, wasting my time and money. Yesterday was supposedly the make-or-break day but next thing I knew, the prof himself emailed that we won’t have class. That bought me another week which wouldn’t be sufficient to finish what I’m supposed to but at least that’s more time to think. And just when I thought of giving up the whole program, here comes LC telling me that she will face her fear (going back to school) and enroll for her graduate degree in Education by June. I sometimes think I can benefit from someone in the office understanding what I’m exactly talking about when I rant about school. Or maybe just someone to commute with, leaving at 3:30, traipsing the nonetheless boring stretch of Quezon Avenue.
I plan on dropping my PoliSci class, and not all three, because I’ve been struggling with all my PoliSci subjects anyway. Mommy said don’t just a few minutes ago, because I started it already, might as well finish it and just VERY CAREFULLY choose what to take next sem.
If ever I decide not to leave the program.
If ever I decide not to drop the idea of studying altogether.
Ah, what do you know. I started this bitchin’ session again and with less prayers, I might shift to other decisions next week.
While I still give myself the leeway to do trial-and-error with the things I embark on, it is becoming scarier by the day that I’m no closer to KNOWING what I really want.
I asked LC if teaching is what she really wants to do.
I told her, what if everything that she’s doing now is taken away from her and the Lord told her that she has the freedom to choose what she’d like to do, what would that be?
She said she wants to teach kids. She said it has long been her dream but didn’t go for it because teachers get paid less and…most of the ones she knows ended up as old maids. Funny but at least she has something of a construct to come back to, whenever inspiration strikes.
I asked myself the same question, with the positive motivation that I get to choose ANYTHING I want to do with regard to my direction in life.
I CANNOT SEE MYSELF ANYWHERE.
I don’t see myself as a laywer, a nurse, a corporate person, an NGO personnel, a firefighter, a teacher, a stewardess, a writer. I even thought I wanted to be an actress, with all the glitz, glam and moral gore, but it’s not it. I have nothing in mind. I don’t want to be anyone. The closest would be a BUM forever. But how shameful would that be?
I guess I should pray harder…and more frequently.
I am not dropping hints but I will be 26 in a few days and it’s making me more scared than ever.
I guess being confused with my life should not be peppered with wanting to have a relationship right now. They say that love…romance…comes like a thief in the night but I believe that you can plan it ultimately. Yes, I fancy someone right now, and even if he does not know me beyond my manly and chubby face that’s plastered in some random office wall, I still cannot say that this is the right time to be involved, if and only if I got lucky to be noticed by him.
I am being like Erwin who is, on his own admission, damaged (and beyond repair!). I don’t know if he is in a relationship right now but if he’s not, then it’s only because of unresolvable internal issues that make it hard for jaded people like us to find and be satisfied with a potential romantic partner – and it’s not that we haven’t tried looking.
Anyway, these long sentences and garbled words make up my very colorful life canvas. And it’s only the first month of the year, ugh.
Oh, what do you know, as I am almost done with this post, a friend messaged me about our greatness as a product of our university. What I was made into, the position I’m in now, the places I’ve been to, the opportunities I had, they all came flashing before me. I guess I’m not entirely damaged, I’m just emotionally battered and butchered because my human form is still in transition.