No use in telling you this now...
Wrote some time ago... Can't remember exactly when.
Each day without you is pain.
Slowly losing your touch, the sound of your voice, the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body, the tenderness of your words... the beat of my heart, make every day unbearable.
I try to reach for your hands as you slowly, but surely, slip away.
The fear of losing you completely and the fear of showing you too much of my feelings counter each other.
I wait. Patiently, yet, painfully, I wait for you here. Come back. Stay with me. Make me feel the only kind of bliss I've known since I met you...
'Tis only you who have made me truly believe that complete contentment does exist.
.....
Hello?
Are you still there?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A Day in the Life of...
Life has always been like a movie and vice-versa. A day can turn out to be anything, without you being prepared for it... Climactic, anti-climactic, happy, sad, frustrating, boring, etc. For the sake of this blog, I will enter experiences, moments, incidents, thoughts and anything else that has filled up my day and made it a tidbit interesting. Mind you, these experiences may not be as action-packed or as tear-jerking as TV soaps, but they're definitely something I treasure and hold secret to some people.
To start off, I had an interesting experience today...
Was forced to wake up at 8:30 AM on a Sunday morning, after a 4-hour sleep. I was told to open and manage our shop today, since nobody else from our family was available to do it. As the youngest and only girl among the siblings, despite usually being able to entrust things to my older brothers just so I could get to sleep the whole day, I had to get off my butt and head to the office.
I got to the store and saw that only one of the staff members was there to welcome me. She opened the store and as I started bringing my things to the office, I noticed that there was no one around to move the trucks from the entrance. As "the boss" for the day, I ordered for the drivers to come to the shop, ASAP. With no hope and no reply from these dimwits, I had to make a quick decision. I thought to myself "I can drive a manual. I drive a manual – that's right. I'm sure I can handle bigger cars." I asked for the keys. My secretary looked at me with uncertainty as she handed them over.
First challenge: The L300.
Given that the L300's stick-shift mechanism is quite different from the conventional sedan's, it was still manageable to drive the damn thing. From years of observation on how our school bus and shuttle drivers handled an L300, I had good knowledge of how to work my way through it with no casualty. People started staring with slight confusion, disgust or a bit of shock painted on their faces as I carried and drove forth like I was on a bump car or something.
Result? Successful.
Second Challenge: The Almost Dilapidated 6-wheeler Truck
I'm at a loss for words with this one. The experience was just... just... insane – from the first contact to the last. The driver's door almost got detached when I pulled it open. I tried closing it a few times, but it felt like tin can waiting to be torn apart. The window glass slipped down from the countless times I tried closing the door. Everything was filthy. I placed in the key, turned it a few times... And the dead-looking ancient autobot was jump-started to life.
"Okay, here we go. Easy does it. Okay, okay. First geeeeaaaarrr..." I moved the shift to the "first gear" and lo and behold, I was mistaken. It was the reverse! To restate the obvious, I moved back and hit the wall when I wanted to move forward. Brilliant. Just brilliant. After I figured out how to drive the damn thing, the next dilemma was parking it. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. Dead. Alive. Dead. Alive. I literally felt like I was on a bump car, only this "car" could do more than just bump... it could annihilate anything that crosses its path. With my dad's face appearing in my head, hearing his voice as I would imagine him when he finds out that I drove the truck, I wanted to break into tears! With that as a motivation to not screw up and with sweat drenching certain areas so early in the morning, I used my common sense and pulled myself together. I cruised the parking lot as the princess of tiles on her chariot of sterling cheap, useless metal. I held my chin up, put my elbow out as if I was parading the majestic splendor I was on. As I reached the corner to turn and park, I said to myself "Yes, yes. Here we are. That's right. We're almost there, baby. Hang on, don't die on..." And it did. A man from a car shop and the security guard came out as they saw an unusual vision – a girl in her polo shirt driving a truck and the metal pole from the ceiling that she was already hitting.
The kind men assisted me in my fantastic feat of humiliation and frustration, but did not offer to drive the monster for me. Fine. Yes, it was my problem. I'll deal with it. So, as soon as I got to my parking slot, the security guard helped me with a rock and a plank of wood to keep the truck from moving (the hand break was busted). As if that experience wasn't enough, like a cherry on top of a flavorful cake, I couldn't shut the machine off. This thing starts but it won't turn off when I want it to?? What kind of...! I kept on trying and even did something that I never thought I would do (sanely) – I pulled out the key from the ignition! What?? It's still on? (Now you know what happens to the engine when you pull out the key) I cried out for help from the middle-aged security guard. He opened the door and with decades-worth of experience, he simply pulled up a metal string from out of nowhere and the engine magically shut off. Whew! I was close to kissing him for that! (Not really.)
I got off my chariot, and like a new woman, I strutted my way to the shop, dropped the keys on the table and marched to the air-conditioned paradise that was the office. When I felt the need to broadcast that experience, the same way I broadcast anything random, I opened my Facebook and started typing...ended up making a blog just to tell the whole story. Ha-ha.
Result? Successful (with a pale of sweat and a thick coat of dirt on my hands).
To start off, I had an interesting experience today...
Was forced to wake up at 8:30 AM on a Sunday morning, after a 4-hour sleep. I was told to open and manage our shop today, since nobody else from our family was available to do it. As the youngest and only girl among the siblings, despite usually being able to entrust things to my older brothers just so I could get to sleep the whole day, I had to get off my butt and head to the office.
I got to the store and saw that only one of the staff members was there to welcome me. She opened the store and as I started bringing my things to the office, I noticed that there was no one around to move the trucks from the entrance. As "the boss" for the day, I ordered for the drivers to come to the shop, ASAP. With no hope and no reply from these dimwits, I had to make a quick decision. I thought to myself "I can drive a manual. I drive a manual – that's right. I'm sure I can handle bigger cars." I asked for the keys. My secretary looked at me with uncertainty as she handed them over.
First challenge: The L300.
Given that the L300's stick-shift mechanism is quite different from the conventional sedan's, it was still manageable to drive the damn thing. From years of observation on how our school bus and shuttle drivers handled an L300, I had good knowledge of how to work my way through it with no casualty. People started staring with slight confusion, disgust or a bit of shock painted on their faces as I carried and drove forth like I was on a bump car or something.
Result? Successful.
Second Challenge: The Almost Dilapidated 6-wheeler Truck
I'm at a loss for words with this one. The experience was just... just... insane – from the first contact to the last. The driver's door almost got detached when I pulled it open. I tried closing it a few times, but it felt like tin can waiting to be torn apart. The window glass slipped down from the countless times I tried closing the door. Everything was filthy. I placed in the key, turned it a few times... And the dead-looking ancient autobot was jump-started to life.
"Okay, here we go. Easy does it. Okay, okay. First geeeeaaaarrr..." I moved the shift to the "first gear" and lo and behold, I was mistaken. It was the reverse! To restate the obvious, I moved back and hit the wall when I wanted to move forward. Brilliant. Just brilliant. After I figured out how to drive the damn thing, the next dilemma was parking it. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. Dead. Alive. Dead. Alive. I literally felt like I was on a bump car, only this "car" could do more than just bump... it could annihilate anything that crosses its path. With my dad's face appearing in my head, hearing his voice as I would imagine him when he finds out that I drove the truck, I wanted to break into tears! With that as a motivation to not screw up and with sweat drenching certain areas so early in the morning, I used my common sense and pulled myself together. I cruised the parking lot as the princess of tiles on her chariot of sterling cheap, useless metal. I held my chin up, put my elbow out as if I was parading the majestic splendor I was on. As I reached the corner to turn and park, I said to myself "Yes, yes. Here we are. That's right. We're almost there, baby. Hang on, don't die on..." And it did. A man from a car shop and the security guard came out as they saw an unusual vision – a girl in her polo shirt driving a truck and the metal pole from the ceiling that she was already hitting.
The kind men assisted me in my fantastic feat of humiliation and frustration, but did not offer to drive the monster for me. Fine. Yes, it was my problem. I'll deal with it. So, as soon as I got to my parking slot, the security guard helped me with a rock and a plank of wood to keep the truck from moving (the hand break was busted). As if that experience wasn't enough, like a cherry on top of a flavorful cake, I couldn't shut the machine off. This thing starts but it won't turn off when I want it to?? What kind of...! I kept on trying and even did something that I never thought I would do (sanely) – I pulled out the key from the ignition! What?? It's still on? (Now you know what happens to the engine when you pull out the key) I cried out for help from the middle-aged security guard. He opened the door and with decades-worth of experience, he simply pulled up a metal string from out of nowhere and the engine magically shut off. Whew! I was close to kissing him for that! (Not really.)
I got off my chariot, and like a new woman, I strutted my way to the shop, dropped the keys on the table and marched to the air-conditioned paradise that was the office. When I felt the need to broadcast that experience, the same way I broadcast anything random, I opened my Facebook and started typing...ended up making a blog just to tell the whole story. Ha-ha.
Result? Successful (with a pale of sweat and a thick coat of dirt on my hands).
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