My Job

After a long day of tending to Americanos, I am bound to hit the sack. This day has been the longest, and I am just glad that it is over.

Last night, before going to my job, I have been crying because I felt that I am in another dead end. I was in the comfort of my own room, trying to wash away the pain that burdens my heart. I work in a Call Center and for you guys that might think that it is a glamorous job, please think again.

I am always blamed for problems that I am never aware of. If you are from the U.S. and you have those three button system in your vehicle, I just want you to know that I am one of those people whom you have blamed because your car won't crank. Yes, I am also the one you blame if you have been billed twice for a product you have never used, and God only know if you will ever use it.

I am not complaining. I extend my patience as you rant on how sucky our service is.

But the job is not at all that bad. I also hear how grateful some of you are to our service and how we have saved your lives.

More about my job on my next posts.

Some things...

Some of the projects that I have neglected and now are way overdue. I have come up with a list of things that I am supposed to accomplished before the year ends.

1. Start a photoblog. Something that will chronicle the daily dose of depression and happy momments of my ordinary life.

2. Increase the RAM of my computer. The poor old thing struggles as it cranks up a website, not to mention how I end up dancing while waiting for Adobe Photoshop to pull up.

3. Take another 9 units of my Masters. Enough said. Education is the key.

4. Learn another language. I am thinking of Italian.

This Place

This place used to hold stories of pain. As the bag slowly unloaded, I find myself visiting my blog less.

I was checking some other blogs that I find very entertaining and I realized one thing. I have been writing about painful memories and realization that I would rather forget. Most of the blogs that I have been reading lately usually talks about life in random, stories of day to day accounting of one’s life.

Why do I chronicle such painful memories anyway?

For some time, writing was a sort of therapy for me. I was depressed, overworked and single. I have nothing or nobody to spend time on and blogging became a refuge for my ailing heart.

I still don’t have the things that I want to have in life, but I am slowly getting them. The journey promises to be fun and with the boyfriend beside me, I know I will achieve all my dreams.

Here I am at 25 --un-single, still overworked and occasionally depressed—and I still have more stories to tell.

Let the tapping of the keys begin.

Baby Nic

It has been a year since she died.

I have always adored this little critter. Ever since she came into our lives, things have been different.
Like all other stories of deaths, there are certain things I regret about. The morning she died, I was looking for a vase that would fit her carcass so that we can plant flower and bring her anywhere we go. I know that I should have been home before she died because she was waiting for me.
A week before her death, I was plunged in a deep depression. I could feel in every vein that her time was near. After giving her a bath, I lie flat beside her humming a tune, hoping it would ease the pain she was feeling, and hoping that the good Lord will immediately end her misery. It was the most painful scene I can remember.

She spent 11 years with us. I wish I still have her now. I know that this post does not give justice to how much I miss her but I just have to write down every tear I shed. I love her so much and I know forever I will be crying because I will never have her badk.

To my baby Nicnic, I love you.