state of being
“At other times, she could feel her loneliness descend like a nuclear fallout, a whiteness that obscured her completely.”
For some time now, I have been dancing the dodgy two-step with this guy — an older man who is by turns charming, irascible, and sometimes, just plain tired. Together, we skim the surface of things, unlikely conspirators in a plot to eke out a little happiness.
I’m not entirely sure how I stumbled upon this bit of a dalliance, this little preoccupation. There was that phone call in the middle of the night. He made me laugh and yell at him until about 2 in the morning. I couldn’t make up my mind then if I liked his gruff manner. But the next night he called again, and it was hours before the phones got turned off. We call or Skype each other most everyday now. Sometimes he just grunts at me over the phone, at a loss for words. I kind of like that.
Details began to emerge, photos were swapped, bits and pieces got shuffled around to make room for us. This little preoccupation, it passes the time. It consumes me just enough to make me feed the fire day by day, to tend to it just so to preserve the spark. It is what urban kids nowadays call a ‘skinny love.’ A love that’s not fleshed out enough to be substantial, not solid enough to be defined as a sure thing, or as anything.
I don’t mind it, I mean not too much. There is a connection here that I can appreciate, no matter how tenuous, no matter how brief. But, the both of us, we’re not bothered too much by it. There are no unreasonable demands on time, no shallow arguments, no intrusions into privacy, no intense moments of feeling as though your heart will explode. None of that nonsense.
No, it does not eat us up. It is, after all, just a skinny love.
I tell no one, but it’s been two, no — three months now — that I haven’t been sleeping straight through the night. My sleep is haunted by random thoughts and images, flashing memories that I can’t seem to control.
It’s better when I am at work, because work, mundane though it be, requires a focus that serves to rein in the random thoughts. But at night, the controls fall away and my consciousness becomes a dark, swirling current that sweeps me, helpless and drowning in the flood of memories. Sometimes I’m not even sure if the memories are real, or if they are only imagined, a trick of the light, the cunning creations of a mind that wants a different ending to the story that was.
Trick of the light or true, I just wish I could stop the thoughts, it would be such a welcome rest.
Coming back from lunch today, I closed my door, dumped my hamper of laundry on the floor, and danced to the crashing song on my ipod. Danced with abandon—hair wild, body trashing, arms flailing about, head all a-spin.
Life is good.
It seems gauche, seems cliched, seems like a whole lot of tinsel falling from a plastic tree. But it beckons, that pull of the yellow brick road. It is summoning me to once again pack up my bags and go… just go.
Hello world, I am 39 years old today. It feels exactly like the number—it feels like I am on the verge of something bigger. It doesn’t really feel like my birthday, save for the flurry of greetings on FaceBook and the ringing of my cellphone.
I woke up early this morning to get to a job interview, but Fate intervened and waylaid me. Now when Fate suggests I abandon my plans and go elsewhere, I am wont to agree. So early in the morning in Monday-rush Makati, I paused for a coffee street side and watched the rest of the world go by, drinking in the rush of the day, but not joining in. It’s a skill I have, just sitting still and being an avid observer. Not so marketable, but a skill nonetheless.
On the verge at 39, and yes, I can feel the ground shifting again. I got a call last week that promised a change is going to come. It did not surprise me, this promise of a change rearing its head all of a sudden. My first (and often truest) impulse is to accept it, to make room for it. I feel more than ready for a change, the same way I felt when change sidled up to me 2 years ago and invited me to pack up and move my life to Manila.
At 39, fear does not strike me as sharply anymore. My life has shown me that there is nothing much (oh please) that I cannot survive. Maybe my edges have been blunted, maybe I just have a heightened sense of denial, or maybe I’ve grown an exoskeleton—who knows—I just don’t seem to feel as much anymore. I am not sure whether all this is good or bad. I’ve just resigned myself to it, that is all.
So the 39th year is begun. Alright then, bring it on, give it all you’ve got. I’m more than ready, I’m raring to go!
Loafer’s paradise, or mocking photo for the intrepid, yet so far luck-challenged jobseeker? These days, for me, that photo is more of a mockery.
It’s now 21 days since I was last gainfully employed. I was just daydreaming yesterday, as I went about my lack of business, that I could get used to this. I mean, I could go on with this kind of life—the waking up with not much purpose to one’s day. The 2PM lunches. The unmindful dawdling over coffee. The slow descent into madness.
But before plunging into all that, here are my current job search stats:
34 applications sent through JobStreet
9 applications sent through JobsDB
12 new applications (no views as yet)
5 applications under consideration
5 applications in process
5 applications kept for reference
5 applications with no updates
2 applications withdrawn (unsuccessful)
1 interview in person, still no call
1 phone interview that did not push through (who does these things, anyway?)
8 applications sent directly to companies through their career sites
3 networking efforts (sending resumes to kind folks who promise to pass them on)
I still hang out at the mall, go to internet places, seek out networking possibilities, obsess over grocery shopping. Right now, the adverts for cheap passage into Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, etc. get more and more attractive as each day passes. How I wish I am financially set up to be able to just drop everything (kids, rent, responsibilities), and travel aimlessly for 6 months. I could do that. I think I can.