Posts Tagged ‘job’

It is Sunday (I hope it’s Saturday)

still I dread about the things

that need sorting, or mending

or keeping the weekly life in order.


At the routine and the job not started.

Of promises I keep on procrastinating.

When I complain that time is not enough

but I spent most of it thinking how


will I ever escape the inner tensions

that keep gnawing my brain, restless

and un-contained, filled with regrets

I ought to pace with speed to numb me.


For the plates and cups that need washing.

For the pieces of clothing that need ironing.

For the broken fixtures that need fixing.

For the furnitures that need dusting.


And Monday will come. When you wish away

it is weekend when you get the alibi to be lazy

on Friday. Pretending you work hard but counting

four more days and you slam down the paperwork


bolting out for freedom. Still it is Sunday.

I hope it is Saturday, better nights on Friday.

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Today is my self imposed day-off wherein I had a field trip to some of Manila’s top recruitment agencies. Responding to the classified ads, I troop to the every nook and corners finding that elusive opportunity which I suspect is hidden so long from my sight.  I have hoped to see some better employment  options this time which  is way above different from my present job.  I am filled with high expectations of this try-out and dared myself to be a little patient and sober.

And so it happens, a waiting game in this waiting room of the world. Tens of likely applicants lined up and waited to be listed.  Anxious to fill in the slots to have a chance to be interviewed.  Blank stares and far-fetched gaze outside is a common thing.  And I guess, it’s all about vague questions. And some sort of disillusionment.

Light chatter punctuates the eerie silence. But how brave for someone to introduce himself without telling his name, just a little joke to break the ice, isn’t? And from all walks of life, converged in this little God-forsaken place, where nervousness and anticipation mixed in a cauldron of pessimistic emotions.

I will never forget the way pleasantries are exchanged, as if hostility plays softly along the lines.  And the litany of reasons and the rebellious incantations of misery blurts out once in a while. While I sat among them, listening and just nodding in agreement.

I will never forget how the hours seems a lifetime watching each other’s expression.  If I could only translate the many blank faces into stories of desperation, I would count them as many. And here the sad circumstances of "dog eats dog" survival is evident, where one’s strength is pitted against another’s weakness. And who’s who will just be the day’s norm.

It’s a pity to find the finest of people leaving this country, given up their hope and has accepted the bleak conditions  that talent and honesty  does not reciprocate  survival.  I beg to disagree to a fellow saying that the profession should not be used as a means to earn a living, but instead a way to harness the passion of doing for the love of the profession.

But money is a matter too, that you need to throw on the table.  As real as it gets. We all ought to survive where having money is necessary for you to live. And if waiting in this waiting room, painfully calculate the risks, or if it’s worth a try. Then, let it be.

I will not wait for another day for another rotten wood appears along to dampen my spirit. I will not wait until my self-esteem decays and found that the time has been used up and I can’t take it back with me to undo the mistakes I have committed in my lifetime.  I will not wait in this waiting room, just to be another casualty and resign all my strength to this mediocrity. I will brave it through like many of us here in this waiting room, trying to see what’s on the other side. And we’re hoping to find that greener pasture abound in another place, in another time.

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