Out of the blue and into the black
They give you this, but you pay for that
And once you’re gone, you can never come back
When you’re out of the blue and into the black . . .
It’s coming on again, the inescapable feeling that I’m going to be down with something. Maybe I already am but I’m just too stubborn to admit it. I’m popping paracetamol like they were breathmints just to keep myself from falling down, and I look at my office phone accusingly whenever it rings: “What do you want now?”
Maybe it’s a sign of advancing age, the sudden tiredness I feel sometimes as early as mid-morning. Heck it’s not quite seven in the morning as I’m writing this and I feel tired already. In less than two hours I’ll be on the bus to work, just one ride, no transfers—but there is that stretch along Malibay Bridge where they’ve closed an entire lane to accommodate the construction equipment that’s working to fix the crack on the bridge that could send an entire MRT* train hurtling into the Malibay river—so the traffic is slower than a snail on steroids. And I’m thinking, I don’t wanna go to work, I just want to stay home and play with my baby, stare at the aquaria, hit the sack with my husband.
But I know that the minute I finish this post I’ll be pouring myself coffee to take to the bathroom to read the latest issue of PC Buyers Guide, impossible to read from cover to cover in one (ha ha) sitting. Then a bath, and into the uniform, heave Targus on my back and walk the half kilometer to the bus stop. Sometimes I scream, out loud, “I don’t have to do this!”, but there’s a soft voice at the back of my head that says, “Yes, you do.”
And maybe that’s it, it’s them, those two voices in my head trying to get my attention, trying to get me to believe one of them is right and the other wrong. I wish they’d shut up and leave me in peace. I have to deal with finicky clients, pudding head suppliers, and a boss who believes I can do anything that he can do—which is a compliment, actually, but it’s killing me. I must admit it’s killing me. Maybe I need vitamins. I need stress relievers. I need weight loss pills. I need new eyeglasses. I need a gym membership. I need sleep.
I wish it were Saturday.
There’s more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
Hey hey, my my.