Since I don't have anything worthwhile to post lately, here's a video I took last year:



I've been thinking of taking daily snapshots of the things I see everyday, and add some of my thoughts as part of the text description. Since I haven't gotten around to that, this will do for now.

Anyway, I remember going to this event with Lyn, her bro and a couple of other friends. We arrived at the venue hungry because we were in a hurry and didn't have time for a bite before leaving. Jagermeister was one of the sponsors at this event, so they had girls handing out ice-cold samples in chilled test tubes to patrons.

Having nothing in my stomach at the time, I immediately felt the effects of the drink as it felt like it went straight to my bloodstream and to my head. Fortunately though, we had something to eat afterward and the buzz I got thankfully wore off after some time.

We got ourselves a bottle of the stuff about a few weeks later but it didn't taste as good when served semi-chilled. Sadly, we couldn't get our own Jagermeister cold enough to appreciate how it was meant to be taken.

As for that night however, we had fun listening to the music and getting buzzed from the booze. Good times.

Is this not the most surreal thing you've ever watched?

I am listening to the audiobook version of "Ender's Game", probably the single greatest novel I've read so far in my life. Though superbly written, I'm not sure I've read a great deal of other books to make a solid comparison. For all I know, there are far better books out there that I am unaware of.

But that is beside the point. Again, "Ender's Game" in itself is well-made, but the sentimental value I've attached to it weighs far more in my heart and mind than the actual skill that was put into making it. Anyway, I decided to download the audio version for the simple pleasure of having someone with a masterful command of spoken English to read the book to me instead. I find joy in hearing a voice other than the one in my head read a piece of literature that's beloved to me.

As I've read the book over and over since the fifth grade, I've committed select chunks of dialogue and passages to memory. Hearing a deep, powerful voice reading these favorite parts out loud sends chills down my spine and makes my hairs stand on end.

I am thankful that at the very least, my mind can find sanctuary in the imaginary worlds Orson Scott Card has created. There is bliss to be found in wandering the cold, metallic halls of Battle School or spending time aboard the space cruiser that took Ender to Eros, the blackened planet shielded from prying eyes.

I am glad that there is a place I can retreat to when the physical world can sometimes wear my sanity thin, as what is happening now.

Perhaps it's true when they say that at the end of the day, what you do for a living doesn't define you. Yet, I'm beginning to realize that the qualities you espouse in order to DO well at your job (such as courage, integirty and respect) says a lot about your personality.

Take my Dad for instance. As a kid, I looked up to him because let's face it, flying airplanes is a cool job. The perk of being able to hang out in the cockpit is definitely something other kids would wish for. As I got older though, my sense of respect for my father only deepened when the other aspects of his work dawned upon me. Just imagine operating a huge contraption (and in the sky no less) as the lives of hundreds of people depended on the choices you made.

Now, that takes a serious pair of cojones to be able to do that for longer than I've been on this Earth. Can you imagine the kind of steely character it takes to pull that off?

As I was saying, maybe I know my dad as way more than a pilot, but the fact that he has the guts and brains to do such a demanding job says a lot about his personality in general.

I suppose the point I'm driving at is this: while your job is but a mere fraction of who you are as a person, HOW you treat your work is another story. The next time you tell yourself that your work isn't who you are, I won't disagree with you. So maybe it isn't as glamorous or as fulfilling as you hoped it would be - it's cool to feel that way.

Hell, you don't even have to emotionally invest yourself in the job. Just get it done and enjoy the rest of the day afterwards. But that isn't a reason for you to do a half-assed job or slack off for any reason.

Just remember that people will know you by the WAY you did it (regardless of what your type of work is). Even if you are not your job, the quality that you put into your work is what defines you.

There comes a time in your life when you want to turn a new leaf and abandon a certain set of counterproductive habits that are bogging you down. The toughest part is when the pleasure and ease associated with these habits seem to overpower the reasons why you want to change in the first place.

Just when you think you've taken the high road, the folly of your old ways suddenly doesn't feel so significant compared to the allure of your forsaken life. And so, you go back to how you were before, ultimately frustrated that you're back to square one yet again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

When does it end?

As time goes by, it becomes more and more apparent that doing what's easy and doing what's right are mutually exclusive concepts.

Marko took the The Watchmen Personality Profile Quiz quiz and the result is:

Nite-Owl - The Most Human Hero



You are intelligent and resourceful. You have a fondness for gadgets and technology. You often make cautious decisions and have a backup plan. You analyze a situation before you act. This is both a virtue and at times a flaw. You are kind to others and loyal to your few friends. You are codependent and do your best work with a partner. You can be bold and passionate, but you have a tendency to feel helpless in overwhelming situations.

Despite your achievements, you are an introvert, and often crippled by self-doubt and loneliness. You respect power, but you are unable to go after it. In time you will learn to be comfortable with yourself as a normal person and find socially constructive ways to enjoy your passions. Some words that could describe you: intelligent, resourceful, introverted, self-conscious, kind, loyal, codependent.

Partial Book Review: Ender's Shadow



*Warning: unedited version - misspellings and grammatical roadbumps ahead.

The problem with getting bitten with the so-called "writing bug" is that it strikes at the most unexpected of times. To make matters worse, it's hard for me NOT to immediately write down these fleeting thoughts, because I might forget them if I wait too long. That's why I'm up, writing this at an ungodly hour. I would like to point out that I'm doing my best not to look at the bottom right corner of my screen where the time is displayed. It's easier for me to get up in the morning not knowing exactly how late I stayed up the night before. I guess I'm just weird like that.

Anyway, I just plowed through about sixty pages of Ender's Shadow, which takes place roughly along the same timeline of the book that started it all, Ender's Game. In Shadow, the story focuses on Bean, an expectionally brilliant (like Ender) but woefully small child who will eventually become one of Ender's most powerful allies. The basic premise of the book is to depict the same intergalactic war between humans and buggers; this time however, the story is told from Bean's perspective.

As I said, I read a good chunk of the book and of course I'm hooked. Right off the bat, Orson Scott Card has already woven in a lot of cool stuff with this parallel novel. What I dig about it is that it's excellent as a standalone book, which means that foreknowledge of the original book is just icing on the cake. But for those that have read Ender's Game (like me), man, what sweet icing it is. In my mind, I was already comparing Ender and Bean's experiences side-by-side, which is what I think Card intended.

If Ender had Peter and Valentine to grow up with before he went off to battle school, Bean has Achilles and Poke as his "siblings". Bean doesn't share any blood relations with the two, but the dynamics of his relationship with Achilles and Poke mimic that of Ender's, but on a much more brutal scale. While Peter and Achilles are both cold-blooded and capable of murder, the main difference between them was their circumstances. Peter had to deal with living in a sheltered, suburban enviroment which I believe held him back from actually killing Ender. If he were made to wander the streets as a homeless kid however, he could just as easily kill like Achilles has. The real threat of dying from starvation merely amplified the same inborn, calcualting nature that Achilles' shares with Peter.

Poke and Valentine also serve the same role, which is to protect their respective brothers (Bean/Ender) from the wrath of their elder tormentors (Achilles/Peter). Of course, Poke literally dies for her heroics (unline Valentine), but both girls have put themselves in harm's way in the same selfless manner.

Let's not forget the name of the officer who verbally praises Bean during the shuttle launch to Battle School. His name escapes me at the moment, but I'll bet you a million bucks that Card fashioned him in the same way as General Graff, Ender's father figure. Like Graff, this officer inwardly has a respect and admiration for Bean but is obviously obligated to subtly segregate him from the other students. This is to acheive the same kind of psychological training that Graff had successfully encoded into Ender's brain. The child must NEVER think for a second that anyone will come to rescue him when he's surrounded by a horde of enemies. When the time comes that Bean/Ender finally has to come face-to-face with massive fleets of alien warships, no adult will come to break up the fight.

As an aside, I liked how many of the characters' names are historically inspired: Nero, Ulysses, Achilles, etc. It adds a tad more subtext that I appreciate although I know little about the actual stories behind those namesakes. Regarding the rest of the street urchins that Bean lived with, they're easily comparable to politicians or society in general. With all the mind games and backstabbing going on among those hungry kids, I couldn't help but draw parallelisms with our current geopolitical landscape. Then again, we've been scheming and plotting as soon as we developed enough grey matter to do it (which goes back to who-knows-when).

Even for a work fiction, the thought of a one-year old like surviving three years on his own is difficult to believe. But I suppose Card wants to challenge us by making us think about the real orphans roaming the cold streets. For all we know, there could be thousands and thousands of children as smart and as strong as Bean who have to deal with the perils of homelessness. Unfortunately for them, they aren't imaginary characters whom the author has to keep alive for the purpose of plot advancement. They're made of flesh and blood and could die at any given moment.

Lastly, if my powers of social observation were as powerful as Bean's during my high school days, I would've been the most popular/powerful guy on campus. The way he uses his ability to suss out the hierarchy of power and make his move to come out on top was just awesome.

Well, that's all there is to be said for now but I'm sure there's plenty more to talk about after I've read a few more chapters.

*The following is a warm-up exercise intended to break myself out of a creative dry spell that's been plauging me on and off for the past twelve months or so:

Back when I merely dabbled in writing (read: not my main livelihood), I was gratified by the fact that I was actually getting paid - chump change as it was - for putting words together that people would actually fork over money to read. It was also gratifying to know that my name would be printed in a medium that is, from a certain point of view, more mainstream than an online journal. That meant that my work would be thrust into a large, non-blogging public and that alone gave me a short-lived sense of satisfaction.

At the time, my sideline work as an article writer made me distastefully smug with the knowledge that I was only working as a customer care specialist (a kinder term for "phone monkey") to get by. I was close to bearing that title for over five years and naturally I came to resent my job with each passing day. Therefore, I kept my ego inflated over the self-delusion that slaving away as a call center drone was "beneath" what I really wanted to do. In short, I felt that I was meant for better things and that answering phones was demeaning.

While I don't see myself returning to my previous line of work, my reasons for not going back are different from why I left it in the first place. As I said, it came to a point where I looked down my last job and so the career shift was, in my mind, a more dignified step forward. Looking back today, I choose not to get back into the call center business because I now realize that it was merely time to do something else. Besides, I wouldn't have lasted that long if I didn't derive some small measure of satisfaction from helping people over the phone.

What I'm really trying to say is that I no longer want to think that I changed jobs because I'm above being a "phone monkey". There is no humiliation to be found in an honest job, and I should never be ashamed that I was able to generate steady employment for myself for so long. To think otherwise would be an insult to the people and companies that offered me the gainful employment which allowed me to sustain my family's material needs. And let's not forget the character-building experiences I incidentally picked up along the way.

What made me realize all of this is on account of the current dissatisfaction I've wrestled with during my current job as a full-time writer. As I've detailed in my previous posts, I've come to find that writing for a hobby (or as a part-time job) is very, very different from doing it full-time. It's not so easy, cool or glamorous as it's cracked up to be, but I can't argue with the paycheck. What puzzled me was how I was slowly beginning to resent this job just as much as I did with my last. How ironic it was to think that this was more dignified than answering phones when I was slowly becoming just as disgruntled as before.

When I began conceptualizing this little piece you're reading today, I intended to start off by ranting how much the current place we're living at is driving me nuts. The street across our gate and along our house both go uphill, which is no big deal unless you live in a village where the residents are dependent upon tricycles. Do you know what a two-wheeled motorized vehicle sounds like when it's struggling to move along an inclined surface? Each strained rattle from its labored engine feels like a cheese grater being raked over my nerves. Now multiply that by everyday. When your work is affected by noise, it doesn't help when you live in a place that thrives on it.

But then I thought, is it right to blame everything around me for my frustration? When they built this community about twenty years ago, did they go and say, "Hey, why don't we make these streets slope upwards to torture the hell out of the writer-to-be that's going to live in this exact spot"? Of course not.

I realized that for all of the things that I moaned and whined about, the only constant variable in the equation was ME, or my attitude to be precise.

That's when I thought that I should just suck it in since I'm moving out of this place in a few months' time anyway. I also realized that at the end of the day, work is just work and it doesn't really define who you are. As long as you're doing an honest job that doesn't violate someone's rights (including your own of course), there is really nothing to complain or be ashamed about. Whatever your job is, find pride in it. If you feel like you're not earning enough or are better suited to something else, then move on to another job and be thankful for the learning experiences you've had with your current line of work.

Ultimately, you are responsible for the quality of your life and no one else can change it for you. I'm not going to deny though that there are random, uncontrollable circumstances and problems that get in the way. However, the way you react to, or work around it is really up to you. As a great author once said, humans are the only animals that say, "why me?" when the shit hits the fan. Other creatures, like your pet dog for instance, won't complain or fight against their pain like it was some disorder. They simply move on with their lives and ride out their anger or depression until it blows over.

In a way, it's good to feel those emotions because it reminds you that you're alive. It simply has to occur to you that you have what it takes to bring yourself back into being happy again. Like Mazer Rackham once told Ender (and I'm paraphrasing here), "The human race does not ask us to be happy. The priority is to survive first, and then happiness as we can manage it."

While those lines were said in the context of an intergalactic war threatening to extinguish all human life, it's just as relevant to me now. As such, I hope that it brings to light all the things you may be taking for granted at this very moment. Be grateful for what you have, because there are millions of other people who are nowhere near as blessed as you are.

One of the inadvertent effects of meeting and interviewing people from different walks of life is that you can get sucked into their personalities if you let them. It's kind of like acting really - you get absorbed into another individual's character until you empathize with them so much that it seems like their thoughts and emotions are your own.

Honestly, it feels like my moral compass gets screwed up a bit after I start questioning my principles and compare my value system against their own. Is their way of thinking better than my own? Or vise-versa? The whole process of encountering someone with a different view of the world can be either:

- inspiring
- disgusting
- a little bit of both

And there lies the rub. It's a double-edged sword of sorts as you take in the good and bad parts of their lives. How can you write something meaningful if you insist on being detached from the person you're writing about? You really have no choice but to cross that barrier and honestly put yourself in his/her shoes.

Take this guy I met just today. This sixtysomething dude recounted the details of how he started his company from scratch, reached the peak of his success and then lost it all. Then, he rose from the ashes and made even more money than before. I spent the rest of the day subconsciously trying to feel what he might have felt at the lowest points in his life, which of course affected my emotions as well. As I drove back home, I also couldn't help but recreate and visualize the not-so-flattering things he did in the past. So much so that I didn't spend that much energy thinking about his achievements and milestones.

Sometimes I'm thinking, "Boy, and I thought I was screwed up." At other times though I'm telling myself, "Now THAT'S what I should be doing with MY life." Therefore, the challenge is to identify with someone's beliefs, experiences, values and other aspects of their humanity without letting it get to you.

The most positive approach to a situation like this is to treat it as a healthy exercise wherein you re-evaluate the things that are important to you. At the same time, you can also apply the positive traits of that other person and discard the other parts that don't apply to your own situation. What works for one guy won't necessarily do the same for someone else. In case it does however, why not be open enough to that other person's way of doing things?

What I'm really getting at I guess, is that meeting new people should always be a learning experience. Some part of me believes in fate, destiny, or whatever else you want to call it. As such, there is a reason why you run into the people that make up the cast from the movie of your life. You have the choice to use these encounters for your personal growth and to become a better human being.

Plans gone South

So I'm here in Cebu and went through a magazine with none other than hometown heroes Urbandub on the cover. After reading the article, I noticed that they had a listing of places that have live bands. After calling up a few of the establishments in the directory, it turns out they're pretty far from where I am.

An hour and a half later, here I am in Mango Square at a net cafe, typing with a keyboard that has most of the letters smudged off. This area here is pretty much like a smaller and noisier version of Metrowalk with the usual crap R & B/hip-hop places. The original plan was to watch any band resembling rock music so I could have a drink that wouldn't cost me an arm and a leg. I figured I could stand around in a mosh pit and have a drink while NOT sticking out like a sore thumb.

Upon the recommendation of the guest services officer, they had me brought here. At first, I thought I was going to end up in a seedy part of town where I was going to get stabbed in a dark corner somewhere. Well, it turns out my fear has shifted into utter disappointment. There's a ton of Koreans and white dudes here, and most of them look shitfaced. I was in the bathroom and heard this guy puking his guts out in the stall by the far end.

It's almost 3 AM and it seems like there's no hope of finding any trace of the local rock scene here. By the time I get back to my room, I will have wasted close to five hundred bucks on cab fare alone.

Hey, at least I tried right? Gosh, I feel so adventurous.

UPDATE (3:23 AM): I'm back at the hotel with a bottle of Strong Ice I picked up at a gas station on the way back. Costs about three times less than what they charge at this place.

Cab fare going back was about 30 bucks cheaper than what I paid going out. I agreed to add a little extra because the hotel was "too far" for him. Thus, I gave him the extra 30 bucks that I would have saved, but he didn't look too happy about it.

Train Ride with my boy

My friend Alex made a video of his recent trip to Japan which inspired me to put together a slideshow of the pictures I took from the last week of our stay over there (late February of this year). I played around with Windows Movie Maker and this was the result:

One of the things I learned in Japan was not to put too much on my plate. The nature of the training we did required us to do a lot of tasks, all under a deadline. There were times when I felt there was too much going on that I felt paralyzed by indecision. It sometimes felt like I had so much to do that I didn't know what to do first. What I did to cope was to focus on one thing at a time and shut out all the other pending jobs from my mind until I actually needed to deal with them.

If I thought too much about the sum of all the things I had to do for the day, it would be too much for me handle - as opposed to breaking them down in manageable chunks. If I concentrated on one thing and then move on to the next without worrying about anything else, it seemed like it would get everything done faster as a whole. This approach would allow me to finish the day's workload without getting too stressed out.

I think this is what I have to do now with my new job, because I honestly feel overwhelmed with all the assignments piling up. It feels like I'm in way over my head with all the research materials I have to read before getting into writing the newsletters I have to finish. Just thinking of all the stuff I have to get done makes me want to do nothing. It's a self-defeating mental habit I know, but I'll have to get around to it sooner or later.

We just saw the Incredible Hulk last night. I can't say it was a bad movie, because it honestly looks like a lot of effort was put into making this reboot. Any movie with Edward Norton and Tim Roth are justifications alone to go and see it, but I can't say I was blown away by this one. I was probably expecting too much, I guess. It was hard for me not to make comparisons with Ang Lee's version which unlike a lot of those out there, I liked immensely in spite of the "clunky and cartoonish" CGI. Come on, YOU try and make a Hulk without the aid of computers and see if it's the least bit convincing. Too talky and introspective? I didn't think so. The human interest throughout Lee's take on the not-so-gentle giant kept the whole thing afloat between the action scenes.

Anyway.

I'm not saying the new one didn't have scenes and dialogue of the same nature, but somehow there were a few things, in my opinion, that got in the way of fully enjoying the movie. I was probably expecting something else, but after a little hindsight I came to appreciate all the little details and references the film made to its pulp-based counterpart. After all, I never really read much of the comics to know how closely the movie follows the source material, but I think the key element still stands true in this version - namely, Banner's perpetual quest for inner peace.

Shellhead strikes box-office gold

What I love about the movie is that it walks a fine line between plausability and farfetchedness. It has the right amount smartassery (in dialogue) and action sequences to keep the fanboys satisfied while enticing the non-followers of the source material. I dig the fact that it's not campy at all, which is a common trap for superhero movies. It's a given that RDJ totally owned his role as the decadent and likeable asshole Tony Stark, but I appreciate that they didn't overplay his alcoholic side (Tony, not Robert).

In spite of the outlandish premise that could spell problems for a live action film adaptation, there is a realistic temperance. One such example is during the scene where Stark does a weather and air traffic control check before doing a test flight. His AI butler Jarvis warns him that there are "terabytes" of calculations needed to do an actual flight, but Stark/Downey Jr. stays true to character by skipping the advisory and blasting off into the sky.

The verdict: go see it if you haven't already, nuff said :)

Someone once said that people blog to show the rest of the world that they are plain, simple and cool. I can't help but think that this is true, and it depresses me to think I am one of millions trying to put up this conceitedly self-depreciative tone in order to project that I am in fact, the opposite of how I describe myself. Here I am in this vast sea of users contributing to an infinite void of content that ultimately amounts to nothing. Who really gives a shit about what I did last weekend? I've been going through other strangers' blogs and the whole self-centeredness of it all is beginning to turn me off. All this pa-cute crap, smart-assery and trying to be ironic and shit is making me lose my appetite to blog any longer.

One Month Later

There's a box of brownie mix across the kitchen that's begging to baked for the sheer boredom of it. But then, I can't eat what I won't bake right? Right. I'm already at 170 lbs, and when I came back to Manila I was at a nice 160. Now that I'm in the land of plenty, it's easy to waste all the hard work I inadvertently put in for the last 6 months I spent in Japan (back when I was firmly at 200). My cousin Ben is coming over in less than an hour to pick me up for a long overdue visit to In N' Out, which is going to derail my weight maintenance plans for sure.

I should go back a few weeks though. So we came back from Japan on March 3rd because the company decided to shut down their Manila branch, thereby prematurely ending our training contract. All's well that ends well I say because I wouldn't have wanted to pursue a long-term career with them anyway. What happened was a good excuse for us to go home and I don't mind that at all. There are times when I miss being in Japan, taking in the culture through simple things like biking along the city's sidewalks and interacting with the locals. I certainly don't miss working for the company under the guise of training, but all in all I did enjoy myself in spite of the difficulties that Lyn and I went through. I'm making an effort towards emotional maturity and part of that involves me not looking back in anger.

I then spent the next three weeks catching up on lost time with our dear Dan and did a bit of job hunting as well. Boy, Dan was really happy to see us - he was talkative and excited to see us on the way to the airport to pick us up, but when I carried him in my arms he was quiet for a good half hour or so. He said nothing and just clung to me with his head resting on my shoulder. I suppose there are moments that are so good that they're beyond words.

For the meantime, I'm back to my work-from-home job but doing that from my deceased aunt's (God rest her soul) home in California. My other aunt lives here now with my sick grandma whom I came to visit. My grandmother is not doing too well because she refuses to eat, although her vitals are pretty good for someone who's 92. Her condition is much like a yo-yo; she has good days (as good as it gets anyway) and then there are bad days where she doesn't eat the whole day. I noticed that when she's properly nourished, she's alert and interacts with us. When she doesn't want to eat, she's obviously weak and withdrawn from us. It even came to a point when we thought she was going to go soon. Although she is mostly bedridden, technically she doesn't have any life-threatening illnesses. She did have a case of pneumonia and had to be confined at the hospital for a few days last week, but she's back home and resting. Lately she's been eating three times daily and I even baked a batch of brownies recently, two of which she ate.

From my personal observation, Mama Osang (how we address her) is simply tired, mentally and spiritually. Physically, she could probably live several more years, maybe well into her hundreds even. But she has been through a lot. Early in my dad and his sibling's lives, Mama raised her ten children as a widow (three of which have passed on). My grandfather died when Dad was just nine and Mama had to manage a business on her own, not to mention having to hide her beloved children from the Japanese troops during the war. So now, everyone here is playing it by ear and taking it one day at a time.

We are happy that Mama is doing better these recent days, but cautiously happy as my cousin PJ advises. To quote my other cousin Diana, she is the rock of our family, the glue that has held us together over the challenging decades our family has gone through. Mama's modest, prim and proper demeanor has taught her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren the importance of good manners and playing fair with our neighbors. I am preparing for the event of her passing, but I have on one occasion felt a great deal of sadness to the point of tears. When I was younger, I said and did a lot of things that I'm not proud of but despite that Mama has told me before, "mabait ka, dito ka na lang tumira". And it is those words that strike me the most, because she can see good in others even when they can't see it in themselves.

I'm pretty much figuring out things out for now, but I'm not going to spend too much time away from Dan. Like Lyn says, he'll only be young once so we have to make the most of his childhood and enjoy his company during his formative years. Who knows where we'll be by the year's end? Only time can tell. I only pray for the prosperity that will allow me to provide the good life that my wife and son deserves.

Otsukaresama Deshita

Tonight marks my last night in Japan. We'll be going home tomorrow because the Manila branch of the company we're training for is going to close due to complications that have arisen during these recent months. I'll be getting into that later on, but our flight's early tomorrow, so good night for now.

Driven by some masochistic need to deprive myself of much-needed rest, here I am still glued to the screen browsing the Web for whatever suits my fancy. I keep promising myself to sleep early, but still manage to stay waaay past my bedtime. Now that there's nothing interesting left to read, blogging has become my excuse to stay online and keep my bloodshot eyes open. Vitamins and coffee (which has not been a necessity for me prior to coming here) are what keep me awake in spite of staying up late.

Anyway, the main point of posting here is just to report that we'll be moving to a different location (an hour from here) supposedly by the month's end. I hate to be dobutful about whether it's going to push through or not, but based on our experience here so far I've learned to take my manager's words with a grain - nay, a hefty spoonful of salt to go along with his words. It's unfair to blame him solely for the things we don't like about about our working arrangment, but he still has to own up to some of the grief we've had so far. I know he's trying his best, but sometimes I can't help but feel some resentment towards him.

Going back to what I was saying, the decision to move us to a different location came about from sit-down meeting with the president of the company himself, and at his house no less. We discussed their plans after our one-year training period ends this September. Afterwards, we spent the night at his place and went home after breakfast. To say the very least, I felt like a stormtrooper being invited by the Emperor to have dinner at the Death Star. Obscure references aside, I am somewhat relieved that we finally had some clarification on our future with the company. It was bothering me so much that we lacked a sense of direction and not knowing the point of stay here that it had driven me to the point of anger and ill will towards the company. Now that they've told us what were meant to do after our training and how our future job relates to our daily tasks at the center, a bit of weight has been lifted off my chest. I only hope that the move pushes through, but why I should I find it so unlikely when the president (and not just our manager) confirmed it? Ideally, we'll be moving by March and will be working out of their main office. That means I don't have to stand for literally eleven hours on end at the cold storage we're training at now. That also means I'm going to gain back the weight I had inadvertently and begrudgingly lost in the last five months. I mean come on, I was still in college the last time I weighed this much (granted that the weighing scale at the president's bathroom was correct).

But more on our work situation when I find the time again to drop by. This former-phone-monkey-turned-coroporate-drone needs to get some shuteye before the date changes (which is less than half an hour from now).

Eight Months to Go



But sometimes it feels much longer than that.