After a weekend spent doing mommy duties and getting a much-deserved foot massage, I capped Sunday night with a meal of squid adobo. This dish is my long-time favorite, squid cooked in its own ink with vinegar, salt and pepper, onions, and lots of garlic. Now, squid agrees with me, for years and years now I never had problems with eating it.
So I’m guessing that the culprit for my bum tummy is that iced coffee I had at the mall before going home. Serves me right for buying from a little stall with no other customer except me. No wonder their cashier was grumpy. Arrrgghhh the twisting pain! I’ve been to the bathroom 3 times already. And the cramps are still coming in waves. Owners of Auntie Anne’s, may the fleas of a million camels and warthogs infest your sensitive areas without let up for a year! Ooooh my tummy! It hurts, hurts, hurts.
This is a not-so-glam excuse to break out my new blue ceramic tea set at work. I’ve been downing copious amounts of green tea in an attempt to calm the waves of turmoil in my stomach. It made me burp, so there was some relief for a while, but the heavy stone pushing on my belly from the inside is still there. I want to go home already, but I got roped in to conduct a meeting at 9 tonight. Bad, bad luck.
The tea set is pretty, alright. But now I know I’m going to associate it with a bad stomach ache so the joy of looking at it is much diminished. Awwww.
What comes to mind today is how deeply sad it is to realize that I have first-hand knowledge of the phrase, “a life of quiet desperation.”
I thought I’d just jump in and get back on the blog horse, after quite a dry spell. That explains the picture here. I was wishing for a drink, and that night, my wish came true.
A friend took me to the San Miguel Octoberfest launch, and the onslaught of rock music, alcohol, and people out to have a good time seemed to trigger a response in me. I had been in a tepid, debilitating, lowest-slung depression for months. I was plodding along with my eyes glazed over, going through the motions. It was not very sad, just exhausting. It felt like a desert spread out inside of me, covering every inch, eating through bone, leaving only dust. Outwardly however, I appeared the same. And testament to my ability to morph and blend in with the herd, no one noticed.
I think I’m coming out of it now, though. Perhaps contact from long-lost friends helped, or maybe the oblivious jollity of new ones shook me out of it. Slowly, I’m finding the resolve to come away from that dark, dark place that swallowed me whole, and yet felt the safest. Rising from these slumps always feels like moving through traffic, gel-like, in slow-motion. But, I am moving now, and for the most part, that’s all that matters.