Of Hearts And Heartaches (I)

MOOD | curious
CRAVING FOR | a party
RANDOM | seven blog entry ideas, no time to write them down :(




OF HEARTS AND HEARTACHES
There's Just No Time for Love

It's 8 AM on a Monday. The alarm has been blaring for 30 minutes now. I look over to the bed beside me and notice with a groan that my roommate has already left. Probably off to an early morning hearing. Good news: I have dibs on the bathroom-- there's going to be no mad rush to the toilet bowl today. Bad news: I still don't want to wake up.

But I have to. I cannot make the hand that feeds me wait.

And so it goes. The routine that I have to go through everyday. Rise from bed; iron my long sleeves; pick the clothes I have to wear and lay them on the bed; head over to the showers, and soap the tummy first; towel myself dry; put on the deo; brush my teeth, then gargle with the citrus-flavored Listerine; jab the insides of my ears with cotton buds; dress up for work; apply hair product on my, well, hair; powder my face; spray a noticeable amount of perfume; look for my room keys, my wallet, and my cellphone; arrange my bag; leave.

It's 9 AM. I'm 30 minutes late, and I haven't even hailed a cab yet. On a good day, this will take me around 2 minutes the moment I emerge from the kanto. On a particularly bad day, it will take me 20 to 30 minutes, tweedling my thumbs inside my pants and tapping my right foot like an irritated little brat. In any case, I will not ride a jeep to work. That alone will take me 45 minutes since the jeep passes through the dreaded Makati Ave - Ayala Ave route. I will rather wait for a cab 30 minutes longer than necessary.

When I arrive at work, I'll drop by the employee lobby to get my fingerprint scanned. It's an upper if I arrive by the skin of my teeth-- at 9:29. But if I arrive later, I'll just shrug my shoulders and hope for a better day tomorrow. The day personally begins at 10, with a lunch break at noon, a coffee break at 3 (if we haven't bought one from RCBC Starbucks during lunch), and dismissal at around 6:30, 7:30, or midnight, depending on how early I was in arriving at the office, how heavy my workload was for the day, and whether or not my officemates are rushing to get to the Body Jam/Hip Hop/Cycling/RPM/Body Combat session on time at the gym.

After the gym session (or at some days, study session), we tend to have dinner. If we're feeling stingy or diet-conscious, we'll skip the dinner altogether and head on home. Another 5-10 minutes waiting for a cab, and then I'm off.

It's 11 PM, and my roommate is already asleep. By this time, I'm still wide awake, either by the endorphines released from working out, or the exhilaration of getting through a chapter. I cannot let my day pass without serving my dishes in Cafe World, however, nor can I make my way to dreamland without checking out the latest news in the blogosphere first. Tap tap tippity tap tap on the keyboard for an hour or so before a yawn interrupts me, reminding me that there's still work to be done tomorrow. I try to squeeze in a blog entry, and if I'm lucky, I'n ready to lie down by 1 AM. 2 AM if there's a TV show to catch up on. 3 AM if there are two of them.

I look at the clock and it's way past my bedtime. Tomorrow is another day, and I cross my fingers that I get in before 9:30. I have a meeting at 10.