July 11, 2010 12:09AM

                This is another night that is so hard to sleep. I had too much thoughts going on inside my head and I don’t know where to put them. So here in my friend’s lappy, I am looking for solace.

                Life these days is becoming overrated, if not unfair. I got used to the times I spent at the local coffee shop and whine about how my day at work crash. It’s always like that Monday to Friday – for almost 2 years. You guess how comings and goings like that could sometimes become so puffed up and you want it to just dissolve into thin air. Not the coffee shop scenario but the whole whining thing. Though the good laughs about fun stuffs were there, I wish I could talk about something better and fastidious about my dreary day, especially about work.

                 If not because of the promise I made to myself to stick to where I’m at after the Mandaluyong obnoxious clash, I quit long before my first complaint about work in front of my brewed coffee. Palabra de honor is what I am holding along with the assurance I promise to my Mama that I’m not going to screw up this time.

I gave my understanding, but couldn’t comprehend anymore. I tried my best to be humble, but my head can’t stop from blowing up. I lived by the virtue of honesty, but people around me were not – I am deeply shaken. I packed with me tons of patience, but it’s all consumed. What’s left with me is just a full-sized indifference, until another year so I can start over.

No matter how I tried to be fervent and be earnest towards work, I still can’t help it but cringe over how things around me becomes more vividly unfair, unreasonable, unwarranted, irrational, so hard to deal with. I know what’s my worth, but how come I’m not reaping the rewards of my hardwork? Or just its equivalent reparation. The absence of motivation is what makes it so hard to wake up every morning – why memos and warnings are not worthy of a rat’s ass.

An old friend mentioned that first year of work without savings and any sign of achievement is considerable, and same precariousness on the second year is bull and full of crap. This full of crap thing is making me apprehensive and wanted to clarify why my second year still seems to be sluggish, deprived and lethargic. Why am I still working over 8 hours a day? Why I have a deduction when I’m late but no addition on overtime or night differentials? Aren’t we task – oriented? Why are my benefits not paid on time and why it appears diminutive? Are you sure you are by the book? Is this the only sum I am worth?  How about a payslip? How about a little help here? Or perhaps, I have to figure it out myself?

The Pasay occurrence still lingers in my memory, I would welcome another version when I know my frontier is being incapacitated. Point is, I desire nothing else but enjoy the aroma and sweetness of my cup of coffee alongside content and impartiality made that day. Not the animosity upon opening my mouth as I lay my cup down.