Project: Building My Own Hill

It’s been a hectic week with a kind of workload I never would have imagined I could handle… yet remarkably, I am, finding time, in fact, to do errands on my day off. It’s a rewarding job; tiring yet rewarding nonetheless. I come home with a newfound sense of accomplishment I never experience with the magazine, even if this new publication is ‘pay-per-press’ (release). In stark contrast, my peers at the old office are finding it hard to fill in my shoes, what with their day preoccupied with downloading, 2 hour coffee breaks, and the infamous YM.

I’m starting to miss the leisurely pace, the proximity of my sister’s place, and the idea of bringing a car once a week. Here, there’s not a single free space, and the nearest pay parking is blocks away. My daily commute now includes a Jeepney ride. Yes friends, I am now a peasant with a little coin purse that contains exact denominations of PhP7.50. Yet, despite all that, there’s a certain sense of dignity that comes with a paper, something Mercedes-Benz’s higher offer couldn’t provide. It really was a good decision.

The only thing that seems to be troubling me now is the lack life after work. Even sex becomes tiring, a mechanical obligation of sorts. I come home, tired, short-tempered, yet with still so much on my mind.

It’s all made me think about what else I want out of this life. Job: check. Money: check. Now that all of that’s taken care of, it’s everything else I’ve been putting off that needs attention. Most important of all is what the plan is further down the line. Not career-wise, as that’s already very clear at this point. It’s about building a home to come home to. And I haven’t even a cornerstone yet.

Work hasn’t been helping. My work day now extends to night if there’s an event. It’s not much of a bane as they’re all free, with a little good bag of trinkets if they’re generous, or desperate enough. The other day it was two loafs of bread. I tried to stop myself from laughing.

It’s not a matter of absence of opportunity. Speaking of which, they’re just waiting at the wings. It’s more of myself I can’t reconcile with. I watched The Break-Up the other day and found I can be a lot like Gary sometimes. Sure, he’s devoted, hard-working, and likes to kick back as a reward. But more than this is the softer giving side, long hidden and protected from the harsh and heartless dog-eat-dog world. So the question is if there’s reason behind my hasty judgments and unforgiving prerequisites. I’ve often argued that I know and have seen that they can be met. But can they really? And if so when? If anything, finding, or compromising, as I’ve often been urged to do, is the only thing I’ve been procrastinating.

It’s not that I don’t want to. Lord knows I’m reminded of it everywhere I go. It’s more of that I know I’m not capable of allotting time for it with as much dedication as I do my work. And money is really hard these days. I’m often upset at how I slave myself so much for such a paltry sum and yet everyday I meet many more who are rewarded for doing so little. Indeed, there are no “Pleases” and “Thank You’s” down from the hill. But the least I want to do is remember that, and reward it, at least on my own little hill… when I finally get it up.