Like the inexperienced person that I have been all these years, it took me a while to grasp the concept of actually having a real job.

One sunny Thursday morning in October as I was lazing around and dreaming of better days, I jumped off from bed to an unknown call hoping it would be James Dean waking up from the dead with a 20 carat diamond and his intentions of me marrying him. It had been about 3 weeks or more and the wait for job call-backs had turned from "something to look forward to" to a total nightmare and frustrations looming over my head like rainy days. My James Dean turned out to be something better--he had a cool voice as if he was announcing a death of a close relative, my future boss from The PP asked me if I wanted an interview. Compared to my uberly excited, uberly happy tone, he was a serious monk although I just had to suck it all up (all: regardless how indifferent and how weird it would be to have my first job) and said "Yeehaw, baby! I would definitely love to, are you kidding?" and possibly made his day.

After that morning, I soon then acknowledged that God makes all sorts of wonders, even small wonders like my first job. Remarkably, he always has this way of making everyone second guess our ways of life and the perspective we put our vision into. When we think we are losing it, he's here to put back what it is "right" instead of what is commonly misleading us to be. He had managed to put back my excitement in having this "first" experience and miraculously instilled it in my mind to never lose hope.

Enermously thankful after many weeks of banging-head to wall frustration, all my firsts will never be enough without its drawbacks and this one have had its long runs of overwhelming sharades and deep breathing, inhale-exhales. I was more than agreeable to participate in this new "learning experience" and work solely for "more experience" but my first few weeks and as it exceeded, became a month, felt like high school for me over again. Metaphorically, and hopefully did actually, blood dripped from my nose, oozed sick-to-my-stomach feeling as if I haven't accomplished much greater "firsts" with greater dignity and courage. After many blows, I gained some senses and realized...well, my first few weeks I haven't realized much besides the fact that I actually have a job and was then responsible not to recieve a pink slip stating that I got terminated for putting the wrong code in the computer system.

The interview went well. I was asked to bring 3 items that describes my personality and if I knew I was going to be a cheerleader for the afternoon, I could have brought pom-poms as I cheered my way through the PP contract. Overtly too excited, my hands sweated inside the airconditioned mall as my armpits fought against my supposedly serious protection against body odor and perspiration, Secret deodorant. I thought millions of blah-blahs were coming out of my mouth like puked words without great meaning or none at all, I had the feeling I messed up my chances again like I usually do flirting with American boys. Jumbled words of he and shes backwards ("My aunt has his..."), I was dumbfounded while it took me aback and embarassed to go on further. All the more so, the door opened for me: a freshly legal of age with little experience in customer service and photography, I was the first hiree for the season.

Emotionally wrecked, my first training day made me realize how I did not yearn for another chapter of my life trying to act somebody that I was not. The thought that the PP had got to be high school-like discouraged me to move on and experience such different situation in just about four hours of moping around. Honestly, I was too quick to judge...too fast and too furious to even reconsider giving it another chance, for that matter. Although the next few days did not prove me anything wrong about my premonition, I had to hold on to the fact that someday the PP would be a 4th home for me. My bosses, however, were ruthless as they can manage to make themselves, giving me my much anticipated welcome from the company. Should I also mention that I would come home every night before feeling like I was not doing my ability to its utmost best? Yes, the rules, long price ranges, and the customers who made my life utmost living hell were unbearably overwhelming; I felt like I had been working for 30 years and all I asked is a 10-week vacation in Florence, Italy.

My good friends never failed to surprise me with their optimistic attitudes. They have familiarized me with the cliche "things will get better" a 100 times or more but I've never really believe anything or anyone until i actually see, hear, and be in that situation myself. Regardless of the ten thousand whines and cheese sticks that had to go with it, I honestly lost the courage to waste a good opportunity, in the end, quit. Such feelings remained with me this fall until the moment I realize that things are getting better if they are not, already. My 3 month anniversary marks all the bright and good times I have had at the PP. I owe my three best friends gratitude for keeping me sane, the one cutie who broke the ice for me and is now giving me an inspiration to wake up in the morning and go to work just to be able to see and hear him answer the phone so adoringly, and God for not letting me give up.

One of the things i've learned from my job is that the uncertainties of life ease as time goes by; as you stand firmly on your feet and do not give up, the bumps will go unnoticeable. I now wake up in the morning and repeats this to myself "if today is not going h0w you wanted it to be, tomorrow is going to be another day". Keep hanging in there and wait for the betterness of tomorrow...or better yet, turn your day around. You have the power to do so, so make the most of what you have.

| It Just Takes Some Time

I wish I was home for the holidays. To hear the laughters of the family I am too fond and familiar with. To sleep at night in a humid weather and wake up in the morning to experience the same heat. For a moment here, I thought I did not know what "home" is anymore. Although the sadness I am feeling as my heart get crushed, and crushed some more reminded me how wonderful it would be if I was home in the shelter of the people that know me well...the place...that regardless how far out it is compared to my current living situations now, would still inspire me to live life be. Where tomorrow would be another day and the rain might bring in a colorful companion with him, to ease the gloom and the pain that it has brought.

I am nostalgic. Some days I wished I was a 5 again, able to run behind my Nana every time Jason tormented me with his sword stick...and some days I just wished she could hear me crying and tell me "kanim deta itlog mo tapnu tumakkil ka pay"(eat your eggs so you will grow taller)--and everything will be alright.

Growing up as a spoiled kid, I am handling my current situation, "adulthood" as I may put it into terms, just fine. But I don't think eating the lemons directly out of the tree instead of making lemonade first is the ethical thing to do. Life is bittersweet and I hoped when I wake up tomorrow morning, I am completely in a different setting with unicorns pooping rainbows, trees growing broccolis I can eat right off the branch and an over abundance of sunshine rain to shower me with reserved happiness. But of course, I can never have everything I want. So maybe a mug of coffee and a day off will do.

P.S. I think I am BACCKKK, with my mouth shut (this time haha) and my brains wide open for more stories and renditions of my wonderful time spending it all on at the PP, and then more.

**Jason is my very sneaky cousin. At a young age, he was very manipulative and ruthless. I heard he has grown out of it though. I don't believe it and just have to see it for myself.

Labels: back, life, living la vida loca, nostalgia

|