So much for the excitement/shock/bolt from the blue/false alarm.  As it turns out, the people from St. Luke’s decided to move my interview date to April 4 instead of tomorrow.  I already got my hair cut (first haircut in months).  Drat.

But the good news is, I’m not gonna lose sleep over the interview ‘til after a few more days.  Which is great because I need the extra snooze.  

It was a waste of emotion.  Somehow, I can’t help but feel I’ve been duped.  And it’s not even April 1 yet.   It’s an early April Fool’s day for me.

Went to the Lung Center of the Philippines today to pay for the IVT training.  I have a complaint (several actually) but because I’m in a real hurry, I’ll just write another entry on that.

When I got back home, I was just browsing thru the Classified Ads of Manila Bulletin to look for a job (I was even considering applying as a pharmacy assistant for 10k a month) when I received a text from St. Luke’s.  I have an initial interview tomorrow at 10:30 am and I’m not freakin’ ready.  (I was expecting a call back a month ago and I probably got tired of waiting that I forgot about it completely and I was taken by surprise.)  But I have to be ready because this is now or never, all or nothing at all.  I hope I don’t blow it.

If I do blow it, there’s always the pharmacy assistant post waiting in the wings.

I should’ve done this last night but I had a really bad episode of nasal congestion/rhinitis brought about by excessive crying.  The worst I had in months.  Plus I was really heartbroken.  Worst heartbreak in days.

My dad doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.  I guess that’s what I get for being true to myself and how I feel.  I could’ve just faked agreement to everything that he had to say (like what my half-sister is doing) and my life’d be perfect and he’d still be talking to me right now.  But I remember my parents (yes, my dad included) saying, I shouldn’t give up my principles just so people will agree with me or that if I don’t agree with other people’s opinions, I should take a stand.  And that’s what I’ve been doing.  And in the process, my dad and I don’t often agree.  And consequently, he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.

He gave up just like that.

Every single time I think about it, it just breaks me apart.  As I’m typing right now, I’m also doing breathing exercises to keep myself from crying.  But I can’t help it…

I used to be a “daddy’s girl.”  I was the first-born anyway. 

Oh.  I forgot.  I’m a middle child now.  But going back to my initial statement…

I used to be a “daddy’s girl.”  I used to think that my dad and I had a certain connection no one’ll ever have.  (My younger sister is also a “daddy’s girl” now, but it’s a totally different case with her.)  My dad’s always been a hero to me.  I looked up to him.  Whatever he did, I wanted to do, too.  He’d sacrificed a lot of things for the family, and I wanted to do that as well.  He had wanted to live a simple life, and I wanted the same thing.  My dad has been my influence in almost everything: music, religious stand, political views, you name it. 

Lately though, we’re growing apart.  I guess it’s partly my fault.  If I had stayed at home more and if I had not worked five (even six) days a week, there still could’ve been a chance for us to catch up on things.  If only I had watched more TV and just waited for my “cruise ship” to come along instead of looking for a job actively, we still could’ve had a lot more in common that we do now.

Maybe if I had been more patient and understanding and sympathetic and level-headed, I wouldn’t have lost the power struggle.  Maybe if I had been more of a “barkada” to him, he’d be more open to me about what’s on his mind or what’s bothering him.  But I’m not his barkada.  I’m his daughter.  And I don’t need a friend.  I need a dad. 

I need someone who will take control of this family.  I need someone who won’t take sides.  I need someone who would put his foot down and make the rules.  I need someone who would foster equality and not pick favorites.

I want my old dad back.  But it would be hard to get him back now.  He’s no longer “with us.”

Right about now, I’d give anything that I have to get a better, faster brain.  I’d also love to have an IQ upgrade on the side if I may.  Even if people would tell me that my IQ’s just fine, I can’t help but marvel at how slow or thick I can get sometimes. 

Or maybe it’s just my memory.  I just can’t seem to remember or recall or retrieve the information I need when I need it, pronto.  I used to be so good at memorizing things back when I was a kid.  I used to read textbook articles/poems in one sitting and recite them in class flawlessly the next morning.  I used to be able to memorize two or three piano pieces a month before a recital.  Nowadays, I have to review my notes over and over and over (if I go any further, I’ll throw up) and over again just to get some details stored in this rusty little clump of gray and white matter called “brain.”  Nowadays, something has to be really, really interesting to be embedded in my memory.  If it’s not a matter of life and death, it would usually be discarded.  Sometimes, even if it IS a matter of life and death, it would still be discarded.

Or it could be my internal processor.  You know, the neuronal pathways and the synapses and the chemical reactions and all the crazy stuff going on up there… I may be lacking a few neurons.  I think I might have lost some while staying up late for exams or not eating on time.  And my neurotransmitters are just out of whack.

Maybe I’m just dyslexic.  Maybe I have an undiagnosed learning disability.  Whatever it is, I need a better brain because I’ve only got one shot at passing the NCLEX and I don’t want to blow that.  I need it so bad because this is for my mom.

Brain barter, anyone?

I just reopened my archives and found one of my favorite pieces from Edgar Allan Poe…

FOR ANNIE (excerpt)

I’m finally done with the yearbook layout.  To the people I inconvenienced because of my procrastination, I’m deeply sorry.  (It’s not like they’re gonna read this but I’m apologizing anyway.)  For the most part, I can honestly say that I sort of meant to NOT finish it immediately but I’m clueless (surprise!) as to WHY I felt that way.  Again, I’m sorry.  It’ll never happen again.  Mostly because I’m never going back to college and partly because no one’s ever going to invite me to work on a yearbook ever again after my last two stints: the college yearbook and the elusive high school memorabilia.

I’m just so glad that I finally got the college yearbook off of my list of “things-to-do.”  I knew I should’ve finished it way earlier.  What the hell was I thinking, letting it drag on for so long?  I’m such a fruitcake.

As for the high school memorabilia, I’m currently hunting down the people involved and getting them to vote “yes” for a refund.  Disclaimer: it wasn’t my idea but I sure wish it had been mine.  Again, what the hell was I thinking?  I dunno, I was thinking maybe we could still finish it after more than 8 freakin’ years?  God, I’m just so full of it.  Who am I trying to convince?

Oh but don’t get me wrong.  I’m not overtly telling the staff to agree with me on a refund.  I’m still giving them two choices: to finish the yearbook or to reimburse.  In my honest opinion, though, the obvious and sensible choice would be to reimburse.  It’s just no longer practical to finish it.  It’ll be great if we can actually have something printed but I doubt that the others will be willing to devote their time and effort to keep the ball rolling at this point when we’re all busy with our lives.  I know I’m not up for it.  But that’s just me, of course.

So hopefully (and I’m crossing my fingers as I type), if things go as planned, I can get this off of my list of “things-to-do” as well.  And that’d be such a relief.

What else is there to say? I’ve wasted about half of my life. There were so many things I had wanted to do but never did.

I knew I had to make sacrifices because we’re not well off and my interests are not exactly what you’d call “economical.” And because I just feel so obligated to not spend on luxury or wants - a character flaw I got from my dad. It’s not that I’m regretting the fact that I think of my family first because I’m certainly not in the position to complain when it comes to my family. I love my family. It’s just that it does get in the way, you know. The financial situation, I mean. It shouldn’t but it does.

And being such a wallflower doesn’t help either. I’m no social butterfly. I can’t be the life of the party. I just don’t like hanging out in bars or malls like other people do. And it pains me to think that I might’ve missed the opportunity to meet great people or to experience something life-changing. No matter how much I want to go on vacation or to travel or to indulge or to just get lost or to let loose, I can’t. Something in me (I want to say moral fiber but that’s not appropriate) is keeping me from enjoying my life.

I’m not a very brave person, either. I’d like to think that I am but I’m not.  I’m scared of a lot of things. I’m afraid of engaging in activities that require a lot of guts. As much as I want to explore the world around me, I just can’t seem to take that first step towards anything. I do sometimes but things don’t really turn out too well when I initiate them, as I’ve noticed. I’m frightened of the unknown and I’m infecting other people with it.

I also suffer from regretfulness. Once bitten, twice shy. You know the drill. I do one thing and when it fails or if I feel like I’ve failed in other people’s eyes, I regret ever doing it in the first place. Worst case scenario, I just stop doing it. Sometimes, I’d persist no matter what other people say, but to no avail. Eventually, I would either give up because it’s not going anywhere or give up because I’d suddenly realize that I had become more of a liability/burden to the people around me.

Another thing that could be causing this is my tendency to take things for granted. For example, I’ve just realized that I’ve been working in Makati for more than a year now and I still don’t know all of the landmarks. I know all the routes going from my house to my workplace and back like the back of my hand but I never really took the time to look up and around to check all the other buildings or places and I’ve never been anywhere else or have never really gone out except when my team would go out for breakfast and stuff. It’s amazing how I can overlook all the little details and just let the moments and places and people pass me by.  The places will always be there but what of the moments and people I let pass?

I’m sad. I’m getting sadder by the minute. And the sands of time are slipping away and would soon run out…