High Five

I just returned from a self-imposed hiatus. It wasn't a vacation, but it gave me a chance to sort through some really important things.

My son is turning two tomorrow and I just realized I've missed out on so much. He has become so much taller now. I still want to call him my baby, but he is no longer one. He's wearing a school uniform and black leather shoes for crying out loud!

These past few days, I've just been enjoying playing with him inside our room. Normally, Denver or I would hand him over to his yaya or grandma so that we can get some sleep during the day. Today I let him stay in the room and we played with Ming-ming. That's what he calls his Winnie The Pooh stuffed animal from his Ninang Det. Don't ask me why, he can't rationalize yet. I actually taught him how to high five with Ming-ming. And he can say “high five” correctly. He knows “appear” but pronounces it “apeeh.” I use this pathetic puppet voice for Ming-ming's voice. He tries his best to change his voice too. It's hilarious when he does it.

Apart from realizations relating to my son, I had long and deep thoughts about me and Denver. We really screwed up. It's just sad that no matter how hard we try, our past manages to creep up on us. Once again, we fought and apologized to each other. I'd like to forget about everything that he did to hurt me, but I can't. It pains me too that I can't let go of it that easily. We're still together but I've stopped saying “I love you too.”

Some things are just too painful. And some people have too much pride.

I am not sure whether I should prepare myself to give up and let go, or to learn to trust and risk getting hurt again. I sure am having so much difficulty with the latter.

Still Panting

I’ve been to the gym 3 times this week. I think I deserve a pat on the back. I would have gone yesterday if my mom hadn’t been sick. I brought my gym bag to the office today because I intend to work-out after my shift.

I just realized that exercise is a personal thing. It’s pretty similar to the time I decided to quit smoking. For the longest time, Denver had been trying to convince me to lessen my cigarette smoking but I never paid any attention to his pleading. One day, I just decided to quit. Not for anyone else but me. This gym thing feels the same. I don’t need to have a gym buddy to actually go there. I am going because I want to feel better physically and mentally. It would be great to lose inches and pounds, and fit into clothes that are not plus-size, but right now, my primary goal is to build strength and endurance so that I can jog on the treadmill longer. I so envy those chicks who can run non-stop for twenty minutes.

Punctured

At this moment, I am enjoying my hot White Chocolate Mocha at Starbucks Medical City. I am in no rush and this gives me great pleasure.

If you know me, I am always in a rush (except during meal time). I eat very slowly, but I hurry everything else. I purposely extend my bath during my days off. Once, I timed myself in the shower, and was disappointed to find that it only took me ten minutes to shampoo, soap and scrub. On a regular workday, it would probably take me just five minutes or even less to shower. I don’t have a tub, so I can’t really do much in the bathroom.

I should be at work right now but the nurse from the company clinic scared the shit out of me. From work, I got into a cab at 10PM and brought myself to the Medical City for a consult. If you must know, I was stung by a sea urchin on my hands and feet yesterday. I still smell of vinegar because I soaked my feet on a basin of Datu Puti as an alternative to ammonia. Denver absolutely hates vinegar but what can I do? It’s better than pee, right? So far, there seems to be no sign of infection, and the pain is still bearable. Bad news is that I still have to marinate my hands and feet in vinegar two to three times a day.

Oh, special thanks to the nurse. Because of her, I am sipping my coffee instead of staring blankly at my monitor at work.

No DVD for me tonight. I am beat from the bus ride all the way from Bataan. I could stay up but I prefer to sleep heavenly or just lay down and imagine myself around 50 pounds lighter. I hope the pain is gone by next week. I need to hit the gym soon. I don’t think I can wear rubber shoes just yet.

Fat Ass

I turned in my Fitness First application yesterday. This means that I have to drag my fat ass to the gym from now on (if not, then I've just wasted a lot of money for a gym bag and water container).

I'm a bit scared because I just might discover that childbirth has changed my body forever. This is my last and most expensive attempt to shape up. Actually, I have not given it much effort (losing weight). I've been eating A LOT for the last two months. Food has replaced my nicotine craving (not permanently, I hope).

I have long been debating with myself whether I should sign up or not. An expensive gym membership is not exactly in the priority list of a practical mom. Not that I am practical, but it is ideal in these difficult times. It was my mom who encouraged me to forget about the cost and think of the benefits.

If I can quit smoking, I can probably commit to this too. God, I really hope I'll have the energy to do this.

I miss buying regular-size clothes. Would it be silly to take a before and after picture?

Idiotic

I am disgusted at how some people just set stupid guidelines in order to avoid complication or additional work.

My team got second pick in the June schedule bid. Naturally, we chose a schedule with weekends off. I’ll skip the crummy details. Middle management just told us that there will be no transition schedule changes. This means that before we can have our weekend off, my team will have to render work for 7 consecutive days, and will not be able to file it as overtime. Even if we could file it as overtime, this friggin rule they just came up with sucks.

Other teams will also be rendering 6th or 7th day work. Why can’t we all make adjustments so that everyone is in a win-win situation? The only reason I could think of is their convenience. Problem solving and decision making is still part of their development plan right? Shit heads. (Whoever came up with the idea anyway?)

Little School

We will be enrolling Ippo in play school today. My baby boy is going to school in June. I am very excited about it. I can’t wait to see him wearing his school uniform and school shoes. I already gave him my tiny Jansport backpack. We just need to pick out a lunch box. I told Denver I want him to have the best lunch box.

I remember myself back when I was in little school and grade school. I needed to have the best looking lunch box or the coolest pencil case. It didn’t really matter what I had inside the lunch box as long as it was “in.” For the pencil case, the more features or openings it had, the better.

If my boy is anything like me, it’s going to be very expensive raising him.

Pet Peeve # 1

I just realized that losing a pen is one of the things that I really hate the most. It put me in such a bad mood when I found out I had lost my pen yesterday at work. It was almost emotional. Like losing a boyfriend you’re really fond of.

My workstation was in chaos after emptying the contents of my bag in search for my black Starbucks pen. Then I remembered that I heard something drop on the bathroom tile just the day before. I looked down on the floor but was too lazy to search for whatever it was, and figured the lady from the next cubicle must have dropped something. Stupid. I should have given the floor a second look.

I’m very protective of my pen. Sometimes I lie and tell my team members I don’t have a pen on me because I don’t want them touching it. I even started to bring decoy pens for them to use. I am secretly annoyed when they have to pick up the good pen. I remember a time when I told one of them my pen wasn’t working. Haha. They had to pick up the decoy pen on my workstation. It’s so silly when I think about it but what can I do? It was on impulse. And I swear I am not like this with other stuff, just with my good pen.

So I went down to National Bookstore after failing to recover the pen from the washroom at my office floor (where I was hoping to see a sign saying “found your good pen, please claim from Gayren”). I hastily picked out a slim silver and gold pen. It looked really nice and expensive, and wrote fine, but that didn’t cheer me up. It has a different feel on my hand. Today, I even handed it over to a team member who needed to sign some papers.

Like I said, it’s like losing a good boyfriend. You can get a good replacement, but it’s just not the same.