29 September 2010


This is the first night all month I can rest easy, without having to worry about work tomorrow, but I feel I hardly deserve it. September, work-wise, was a bust; I couldn't seem to focus properly, articles were late, time was wasted, and that depressed me--which made it even harder to focus properly.

I recall feeling exactly the same when I first started at BW last year. In fact, I've felt the same at roughly the same time each year since my sophomore year in college. Maybe it's some kind of seasonal affective disorder, I don't know. I hope not.

Earlier this year, I told myself that I would take inventory of my life come September. That my birthday and my first anniversary at this job were within days of each other gave me pretty good reason, and now that the month is ending, I think I'll tell you what I've decided.

I knew before September came that I would keep my job (if it would keep me, haha). My boss is pretty fair. I like the work 70% of the time, and my friends at the office can often make the remaining 30% worthwhile. If something interesting opens up somewhere else, I'll give it a shot, but I'm fine where I am now.

I've been feeling pressure from people around me and from myself to seriously consider a master's degree, and the arguments are starting to make sense, so I will look into some UP Open University offerings next year.

I still want to move out of Cubao, but I've decided to wait a bit. Martin knows someone who will move out of a great apartment early next year; it's a good-sized place in a quieter neighborhood, so I'd like to get in line to be the replacement tenant. Fingers crossed.

At a particularly low point this month, I called home even though I knew that my mom would suggest a solution to my problems that stopped working for me years ago. We ended up arguing about it and I ended up crying, and there was one of those long pauses, after which I sighed and said, "It's complicated, Mom." She said we would talk about it when I came home. I think we're finally going to have the conversation that I've been wanting and also dreading for two years now.

Martin is still the reason I wake up in the morning and slog through 30% days, because when the day is over, the week is that much closer to over, and when the week is over, I get to be with him.

Life could be worse.

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