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Back To The Future
To you, dearest Amanda, September has just begun. But to me, it's ending. I'm playing catch up again on 100words. I still have a number of entries to write (number twelve, to be exact), and I'm running not just out of time, but also of random ideas.
But anyway, let's just pretend it's September 1st and that I am highly optimistic about the whole new month coming up ahead.
Hello, September. Be good to me.
(You weren't very good to me, September. You were mean. I was sick for like half the month. That wasn't nice.)
I miss my mother. We don't get to see each other as much anymore, because I've been staying at my boyfriend's place most of the time. I miss our family. We used to be so close together. Now, without a home, we're all just falling apart. Kate stays with her boyfriend, I stay with mine, Christine has work, and mama is usually just left all by herself in the cramped room that we're renting. I don't like this current situation, but I can't do anything to change it either. At least not yet. We're stuck like this (for a while).
Life Lesson #567
If you're on a tight budget but still want to give a wonderful and personalized cake for someone celebrating their birthday, worry no more! I learned about this hack recently where you buy a cheap ass cake, and decorate it with toys and all sort of personalized shit on top. It doesn't matter if it tastes like dog poop, what matters is the
. Trust me, everyone will love it. And once they taste it and it tastes like crap, everyone will still pretend to love it because people are fake and you must trust no one.
I hate overdone cakes. It's only okay to be overly flavorful with the icings and decorations if and only if you have a simple base cake. If you've got a thick and super concentrated base cake, then I would advise not to overdo it with the outer additionals because then that would be too much. I just had a really good mango creme cake. It had a simply flavored chiffon cake underneath, and cream with mangoes outside. See, there's balance. It was so good. It tasted so delicate, like a ballerina dancing on cotton candy clouds.
Eye Balls Like Jack & Jill
My must some people feel the need to have to poke their noses up other people's business? I don't get it. Seriously. What is the point in even just thinking about things that don't affect you in any way at all? What a waste of energy, I say. Your thoughts could've gone to more meaningful things like thinking of ways to achieve world peace or ending starvation in Africa, but there you are wasting it on complete garbage. Stop giving a hundred unwanted fucks over things that don't give a single flying fuck about you.
I used to have pretty nice hair. It was long and never frizzy. Basically, I didn't have a single problem with it my whole life. Until I decided to get a digital perm. I had my tips curled because I think it looked cute and all. And it did. For a while there, it looked cute af. But then the curls started to fade off, and I was left with dry, dead hair. Now, no matter what I do, no matter how much conditioner I lather onto it, my hair just refuses to go back to its original state.
Quantity Over Quality
Slowly but surely catching up. I believe it was just yesterday when I thought all hope was lost in my September batch of 100words entries. I was more than ten entries behind, and I thought there was no way in the world that I could finish this batch. But I hate unfinished batches so much to the point that it drove me to write and write and keep writing even when I've got nothing to write and even when my pieces are getting real sucky absent any substance, I wrote and never stopped. So here I am.
Easy For You To Say
You can't cure a problem if you're just bent on looking at the surface. If there's a ripple, then look for the source. Superficial solutions are very temporary. If you're looking to solve a problem for good, you have to look deep down into its very roots. Nip it in the bud, they say. Yes, you can ease the effects, but as long as the cause is still in existence, they will always return. Over and over again. Trust me, you wouldn't want to be stuck in a never-ending cycle of pointless palliative bullshit.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night. I sat up in bed, grabbed the couple of papers on the bed, and headed straight towards the computer. I looked at the torn notepad pages on my left hand-- 100words entries. I remember feeling happy about how I wrote those entries ahead of time just so I wouldn't have to worry about what to write next time. That's two entries to type. I felt good.
Then I woke up.
It was all just a dream. I didn't have ready-made entries. I had nothing. And still have nothing.
The Butterfly on the Window Sill
It was a two-hour drive going there, and another couple of hours going back. It was 9 in the morning, and the sun was on its way high up the sky. We were heading for an adventure. It was a long drive, but we were never bored. The wonderful mountain scenery kept us company. We got there, took some pictures, had lunch, chilled for a while, then left for the city.
To put simply, we traveled about midway across the city just to have lunch in a beautiful place sitting atop a mountain.
The Slow-Healing Wound
Eight years is a long time, but some wounds just take longer to heal. Especially when they cut you deep, in a moment when you least expected.
It felt like going inside a really huge hall, lit with chandeliers and all sorts of elegant stuff. I was wide-eyed with wonder, taking it all in as everything was new to me. And suddenly, out of nowhere, someone pulls the carpet below me. I fell, the room went dark, the floor disappeared-- on and on I fell.
I'm not so sure if I made it out alive.
I've discovered (I know I haven't literally discovered this and I've already personally realized this as well way back, but just to start a sentence) that sickness grows braver and stronger when you put your focus towards it. I haven't been feeling too well the whole day today, but I didn't really get full-on sick until I got home. Being at work forced me to pay little to no attention to how I was feeling, because it was a busy day and I had things to do. I ignored my fever, and it ignored me right back. Lesson learned.
Diaries of a Relatively Healthy Person
I don't know if anyone else has noticed this, but being sick just has this weird quality to it. To me, it feels like you're a bit separated from your physical self, like you're misaligned with each other or something. You feel icky and uncomfortable. Not to mention there is this certain smell, I'm not sure if anybody else could smell too, but it smells like the pure definition of sick. I don't know how I know that because I don't even know how to describe it in the first place, but it's
There are times when I find myself blaming others for decisions only I could have made, and I think that's really stupid.
br> Today, it rained so hard to the point that the gutters overflowed and there was water everywhere. The flood was ankle-deep, and I honestly wouldn't have cared if I wasn't out of the house, on the way to work. My shoes got dipped, and you should know the kind of shoes that I have. They're extra comfy, it's even called memory foam which basically means it's all foam and it absorbs water. This morning was a disaster.
He wanted to go this way, but her brain tells her not to because she sees water that way and there's a more favorable-looking alternate route right on the next corner. Stubborn as he was, he insisted. He went on ahead, and suddenly she was left with a choice. The world stopped-- she was in a crossroad, both literally and figuratively, under her tiny umberella amidst the rain. She knows she should go to the other side, but he's there, walking up ahead.
The heart is one dumb motherfucker. When faced with important life decisions, never listen to it.
Things That Annoy The Life Out of Me
"Ma'am, first you need to change into this gown. Just remove your blouse and bra."
"Miss, do I have to remove my pants as well?"
Ma'am, what kind of brain do you have? No offense, but at what level of stupid are you to completely disregard specific instructions, and then ask questions later?
"Miss, how do I put this on?"
Unless it's an elderly patient, then I would totally understand. But a woman at her prime? Asking how to put a simple piece of clothing on? What are you, three?
I have changed. Back then, when I wanted to buy something, if I had enough cash in me in that given moment, then I would buy it without hesitation. If I have the money, it's a go. Now, I'm different. I have thousands in my wallet, but I spend way less. I find it difficult to just let go of hard-earned cash so easily. I guess I've just learned that money truly does not grow on trees. It's so easy to take certain things for granted, especially when you don't know how much they're worth in the first place.
The main purpose of a preventive maintenance is to check the machine for any abnormality before they begin to be physically evident. It's self-explanatory, really. It's done to avoid simple problems before they complicate into something probably bigger (and most likely will be more difficult to fix). I like PMs on the mammography machine because we won't be accepting any patients for the whole day. I'm sure the hospital could spare a day's income, because real problems could mean even bigger losses. Wait.. no PM = machine complications = more days without patients = happy me. Scratch this, I hate PMs wtf.
The Bad Dream
I haven't been feeling a hundred percent since last week. I had fever last Tuesday night. And I've had cough since then up to now. I had fever again last night. There was a lack of blood supply to both my hands to the point that they turned blue, and were starting to feel tingly numb. They felt so weak, I couldn't grasp anything properly. Something's not right.
I fell in and out of sleep last night. Everything feels like I was standing from a third person's point of view. Might have just been a bad dream.
Today, I went to see the company doctor with regards to what has happened to me recently. I told him a short summary about what happened. He then listened to my lungs, and had me close and open both my hands. But for some reason, he decided to prescribe me Vitamin B12. That vitamin is for the nerves. What would I need vitamins for my nerves for? I would understand if the tingly sensation that I felt existed solely by itself, but no. It was a result of the lack of blood supply to my hands. What now?
Let me just tell you how my boyfriend was fucking A+.
So yesterday, I had a special meetup at some mall in another city. Since I hate commuting that far, I asked my mom to do it for me. My mom said yes. But then later that day, it rained so hard it was impossible to get out of the house, much less commute, without getting drenched. My boyfriend offered we drive my mom to the mall. My ears literally heard rainbows. Not only that, we stayed, ate dinner, and dropped my mom home. What an angel. I'm in love.
So I accidentally scratched my arm at the PUJ today. At first, it was nothing, I paid no mind to it because it was literally just a scratch. You know that fine, white line that appears after scraping on a slightly sharp object? It was simply like that. But now, I find myself unconsciously scratching my forearm because it's itchy. It developed into something that looks like a long mosquito bite. I told my boyfriend about it, showed it to him, and all he had to say was,
"what happened to you this time? Why are you so weak?"
My friends were tired and sleepy. Darren didn't want to go because he wanted to bring his car (so that when we get home, we won't have to beat the rush hour commute). Mich didn't didn't want to go, but she has AM shift the next day (therefore she needs rest) and she brought her scooter bike (so going with me would mean that she'd have to come back for her bike later, during rush hour, and travel home even later). But they both went with me anyway. There are no words to describe how much I appreciate these two.
The Day We Went To Someone's Birthday Celebration Without Even Saying Happy Birthday To Them At All
It was an eat and run. The truest definition of it. I think I might've spent more time in the shower and getting ready than our whole actual stay in their place. That's how disrespectfully funny it was. Worse, we just stayed downstairs and played with baby Xian while we ate. It was baby Rodel's 2nd birthday, and we were too focused on cute, little baby Xian to care. We ate lunch, stayed for about 15 minutes, then left. I honestly felt bad.
The Story Behind Why I Am Now Twenty-Three Entries Behind on 100words
Life has been super hectic lately. What with my online shop going on, my out of the weather episodes, and basically just living by ourselves this past month (no house help means you have to do all the chores like cleaning, cooking, doing the laundry-- you get the picture). I only ever have time to write on 100words in the mornings before I show up for work. But now that we started eating breakfast at work, I've had little to no time garnering needed inspiration to write.
Today is my ex-boyfriend's birthday. It's so weird, because that thought crossed my mind about a thousand times today. No kidding. Every time I would write the date, which is pretty often considering that I am the one tasked to write dates on the files. So weird, because I don't care? I have absolutely zero fucks to give about his life, so I don't know where in the world that came from? I think it's partly because I also couldn't stop thinking about that time my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend posted a happy birthday on his Facebook wall. Just weird.
The Spicy Noodle Challenge
The roads were mostly empty, we were driving at a moderately high speed. My eyes were very tired at first, my vision a blur. But, as if by magic, the night's energy seemed to slowly seep into me. These are the moments I used to live for-- the feeling of nostalgia slowly came to me. I realize how much I've missed it. Late nights and long drives with best friends, off to places where we can all be alone together.
Something about deserted roads and the cold breeze of the night just makes you feel infinite.
Ma'am Elma decided to change her day off from Saturday to Thursday (today) due to personal reasons which I know nothing of. Earlier today, I was so used to having her around that I decided to show up a little late at the Centre. When I got there, Miss Jane greeted me good morning with a little,
"why did Ma'am Elma change her day off, Em?"
on the side. Imagine a party popper. That was me, my head, my whole physical self when I heard that-- I was all over the place. I hurriedly started the machine. Close fucking call.
She cut her head open with a sharp knife. A nice, clean cut with a surgeon's precise hands. She removed the vertex portion, put it on the side. There it is. The beautiful brain-- looking so fresh and juicy. She took her brain out of her head and put it in a basin. Then she started squeezing the brain juice out (all while her empty skull was wide open, mind you). She squeezed and squeezed, twisted and turned the human organ around just to get every last bit of brain juice out. Yet all she got was one tiny drop.
I spent too much money today it makes me uncomfortable.
My high school friends decided to book a flight for Davao early next year. It was random, but that's okay because it's a promo fare (a.k.a. who could say no to cheap flights?) Despite not knowing what's in Davao (are there even tourist spots in there?), I was excited. I told my college friends, now work colleagues, about it and said we're open if they wanted to come with us. They did. And now I'm not so sure about this whole high school-friends-with-college-friends arrangement.
The Tip Jar