Not Another Life Crisis

Oh, it is such a good feeling to finally be free and not worry about home works, readings, tests, and papers. At last I'm done with school and I can practically do anything and everything I want. I'd get my dream job or start my business, I don't care! I'm ready for the world! (That was me speaking with enthusiasm and all optimistic three weeks ago.)

Now I'm eating my every word and no, it's not yummy.

I looked in the mirror only to see my oily face and uncombed, frizzy hair. One would think that I have all the time in the world after graduating, and yet I couldn't take a minute to brush and comb my hair, let alone hop in the shower and freshen up.

My room is dirty and I don't bother sweep the floor. My laundry basket is full of dirty clothes and I'm not thinking about loading the washer until next week. My phone's been dead for a few days now and I still don't care. (Now that's how I've been living that last three days.)

I would just get out of bed to either eat or poop. Mind you, if I could ask someone to bring lunch to my room, I'd probably be eating on my bed. I also spent hours memorizing lines from Grey's Anatomy and Prison Break as I watch dvd after dvd. I even lost my sense of time as I doze myself in every episode. I didn't bother get up because my head feels heavy and I feel so groggy. I know it has to do with my movements or the lack of it. Yes, that's how interesting my life's been and I'm starting to feel sick about it.

While other people look for jobs, live their lives, and go out with friends, here I am, wasting all my time in my dusty room (no wonder I sneezed all the time, and I was lazy to even notice my room needs cleaning.)

Truth is, I've always been like this whenever change hits me, or whenever my plans don't turn out the way it's supposed to be. This is just how I am after I study hard my whole college life, top my exams, graduate from the university and still not know what to do. At the end of the day, I have my degree, but still know nothing.

Now that I realized I have to take a leap, I'm starting to be apprehensive again. I feel like out there is a pool of deep, cold water and I'm scared I will drown. What if I put everything I got, show it to the world, and still nothing happens? Maybe that's the reason I don't want to go out my room. I'm anxious that I don't get my dream job; that I won't earn as much as I hope I would; that I'd remain jobless for a long time; that I'm not good enough. I'm such a coward, but brave enough to admit that I fear failure more than anything.

I also hate transition, not because I don't like change, but because I don't want to step out of my comfort zone. I don't like taking risks. I am the most optimistic and still the most pessimistic person I know.

They all say that life is too short which makes me all the more angry for letting three days slip in a blur. And you know what's ironic? I am in my comfort zone yet I don't feel happy. Perhaps I have to get out there, get a life, take a risk. I wish things could be as easy as my preschool days when all I worry about is missing my favorite Batibot on TV.

By the way, that's not me babbling, that's subconscious...

Run Jenny Run

I woke up this morning and ate a big breakfast. My dad walked in front of the table and asked me why I'm eating so much. He told me to lose weight as I've gained more pounds during the last six months. I just ignored him and continue eating.

Truth is, my dad's right. I've been eating a lot without even exercising. I went to my room and looked at the mirror and into my pictures taken six month ago. Yes, I did put on weight. 

It is really frustrating-the feeling I get when I look at old pictures and into the reflection in the mirror. But what am I to do?

Decided that I want to cut down pounds, or at least try, I wore my running clothes, took my brother's ipod and went for a jog.

It was actually a good run. The breeze is cool and it was not sunny at all. I think I might have to do this regularly, and I just hope I can watch the food I eat.

Goal for the day: Eat healthy.

graduation jitters

...that's why I'm doomed! Anyway, I don't want to talk about this anymore. What will happen, will happen. But if I don't graduate this semester, screw her! I'm going to give her food, and I'd make sure it's poisoned!

(Insanity enveloped me when I got the biggest blow of my college life.)

Shaking Branches

I don't know. But whenever I muster enough courage to let you go, you give me all the reasons to hold tighter.

Care(er) Mom (part one)

When I was little, he would wake me up in the morning, prepare my breakfast, and take me in for a quick morning shower, while she was still in bed, snoring all of a long night's work. By the time I hear the school bus honk its horn to pick me up, she would still be in her red, chinese-print night dress, curled up in the sheet. Even when sleeping, she looked lovely, and so much more when she was awake. At forty-one, she was able to keep her figure which could be one reason why later in my early teens, I would find that she had a couple affairs.

Unlike the typical, domesticated housewives, my mom was quite the opposite. She works hard until she doesn't have the time to pick me up from school, or go to the zoo with me the way moms and daughters do. When I was in preschool, I always wondered why my classmates can brag about the new pencil cases and boxes of 64 crayolas their moms bought for them, while all I do is show my Hello Kitty lunch box proudly say she prepared a hearty snack for me. I did that everyday for two years even though I know it was always my dad or the maid who would wake up in the morning to do mom stuff for me.

When I got home after school, I would hurriedly go to her office only to find her not there. I would ask her sewers where she is, and they would just tell me she went to Manila for business and would not be back until dinner time. It was almost impossible to catch her because of work, because of overtime, because of business meetings. Of course during that time, I was craving for too much attention and would be a little upset when she was busy. In my childhood years, I oftentimes thought how it would be like it she wasn't working full-time.

My playmates and I would talk about our moms. They would tell me they get so tired of their moms being home all the time, scolding them every minute, asking them to run errands daily. I would tell them I wish my mom was like theirs, and we would joke around, telling each other we might need to trade-in like we do with scented stationery and Barbies.

cats and dogs

When we were little, we would always fight like cats and dogs, literally. I would scratch him, he would push me at the edge of the stair, I would lock him out of the house. We really hate each other and didn't bother talk. He has his own thing, I have mine. 

Then, our parents separated when I was 11 and he was 10. After that, it took both of us to another turn. I started caring for him a lot. And I really mean a LOT! I was not just his ate, I also was his mom from that day on.

11 years after, we were inseparable. We became each other's partner in crime. Sometimes we would look back and talk of our cats-and-dogs  phase and we will burst in laughter as we realize how childish we both were. 

My brother knows me so well and loves me for who I am. He doesn't have a choice anyway! But he's always there to listen to all my cheesy, eeeeckie stories, he's there to help me make the best decision. He'd knock me to consciousness when I'm floating away. He's the best brother I could ever have and sure I'm proud of him.

He's my worst critic and my biggest fan. I love him all the more. 

Green means procrastinate

Kill me.

I've been procrastinating a lot lately, and I mean that literally and figuratively. My manuscript has long been overdue and I still don't have the motivation to finish it, let alone start it.

Writing has never been a problem and I'm wondering now why the hell I could not push myself to write that damn requirement. I know that if I don't do it there's no way I'd be graduating this October even if I do finish all my courses and plan of study. 

Well sometimes, I think that not wanting to write the effing manuscript has to do with the idea that I still don't want to let go of college. I'm actually torn, I don't know what I want and I can tell you that I am in all shades of grey.

If only someone could shed some light. I'm in a major quarter life crisis and I need anyone who could push me over the edge of a cliff or bang my head on the wall for a wake up call.