Answer: One hundred and seventy-five pesos change
I started the day delving the deep waters of Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka on the jeepney ride to work. Gregor Samsa, a saleman, has woken up this morning to find himself a beast in his bed; but still, with great effort, continued to try to go through his daily routine, and please his family and superiors despite the horrendous change in him. I had to stop reading mid-trip because I was turning into the beast that Gregor was.
Got in early for work and spent the morning in a staff meeting over coffee. It’s so much nicer now that I’m not the only female in the office after being the only rose among valiant thorns for several months. There is nothing better than having a brief respite of girl-talk in between discussions about systems and networks. I spent the next few hours investigating Rules and Regulations of Network and Internet Use and cutting the 50-page research down to seven. Finally got hungry and had a late lunch at 3pm.
While sitting alone in the hushed cafeteria with my batchoy (it's another type of noodle soup), I got to thinking how alone I was. After I broke up with best friend/ex-boyfriend, I have managed to entertain myself with my online buddies. The hours in between were spent with lady friends where I was then a much needed company; and then there was my church group who had filled my time with humanitarian activities. Then Christmas came, and New Year and I got myself entangled with the busyness of the season. January was spent tackling some financial issues that had blown over after a two-hour cry. Now, a month and a half later, I have began the process of … mulling over my present state. Uh-oh!
I am alone. My best friend/ex boyfriend has put up a restraining order against me so he can keep his good sense. My lady friends found themselves involved in their male-devotions so my evening soirees have stopped. Good thing too because I’m too broke to eat out. My church friends have limited themselves to Thursday prayer meetings and Sunday mass which I truly appreciate. I can't deal with being humanitarian right now because I am morphing. My online friends are still around but the distance between the monitors have become more pronounced in the calmness of the cafeteria. Somehow I have managed to alienate myself from the rest of my world. Am I on my way to spinsterhood?
My sick writer friend assures me I am not. So I asked him that whatever the outcome of my civil status, he must immortalize me in poetry. The problem was he can’t write in English. But he promised to translate it for me as best as he can. I think I have been immortalized in song too … years ago; but as far as I can remember, the songwriter broke up with the muse so the song was never finished.
On my way home, I ran into a used-book sale and bought three books – all female authors, costing a total of 225 pesos. (V, u get them after I’m done with them!) Which means I will be forced to eat oatmeal for lunch in the next two days – GRIN! Small sacrifice really for the treasures I’m adding to my bedside table. A picture of a librarian suddenly came to mind, with hair in a bun and spectacles as thick as magnifying lens. I fear that I’m going to die reading books.
When I got home, I took out a mirror and examined my face for signs of spinsterhood. I’m no longer twenty-five. I have wrinkles that betray the bit of wisdom and the loads of foolishness I have gathered through the years. I have laugh lines that I hope add more character than age. I no longer have the body that mocked men I had ten years ago (naks! as if! hahahaha!). I now wear spectacles when I read. But when I remove my ponytail, my hair hugs my face and covers it like I was some pretty model in a shampoo commercial – hahaha. Humor me please. It’s been a rough day. Practicing my smile, I manage to cheer myself up. Lucky will be the man who marries me – Hahahaha! Talk about being narcissistic. (Didn’t we argue about that, doc?)
After I write this blog, I will crawl in my bed and morph into Gregor.
I knew bad things happen when I start thinking.