Dang this putting years on business does not agree with me. These are the kiddos now. Yes, there is no age gap, as I was a teenage dad. I just wonder where all the time went, and that I am currently part of the middle aged set. My age has fallen off the calendar a year ago.
Anyway here they are.
I have the merciless drone of the wall fan in my ears and the comforting sliver of yellow light from a door slightly ajar. The rains have since stopped falling and it woke me up. This is wholly against my current predisposition but hey, I haven’t written for some time now.
It’s been one of those long weeks. To be perfectly straight, it’s been six months of those long weeks. I’m at a point where I’m starting to ask myself why am I doing it at all? I’ve thrown everything I know at it and more, given time otherwise spent somewhere else, and it’s responded. 30% increase in certain KRA’s and higher in others. But the monkey won’t budge. G*d*mmit the freaking monkey won’t budge.
Gotten awards and all that clap clap clap for me and my team. But it still feels empty. Now I’m blogging about it. To be fair about it, I am happy with most things, but with this – no. I’m still there mainly because of a promise. To a group of people that I will show them how things are run as I was taught. The downside of it was, they all want to go where I go now. Until I teach the next step which is go ye and propagate the principle, I have a nuke on my hands once I tender the bye bye baby papers.
So fuck. Another series of long weeks.
Ok I’ll leave the chapter by chapter narrative to the fanatics.For the purposes of this blog, I’ll I just got out of the movie and let me tell you, it was the most excruciating book to movie I’ve ever seen. Installment five was a let down, and this one seriously had the doldrums. I was wondering how they managed to s*ck for two and a half hours, or how the cast made it through without puking after every take…. which probably did happen and Warner Bros didn’t want us to know about it.
Fine, there were a couple of highs. But here’s the crux of it. Six was supposed to be a grim one where the tendrils of evil slowly but surely gain a hold. The heroes do not know if they can be, and are forced to start to grow up – and fail. The heroes of old falter. And still they fight – against the rising tide.
There was none of that in the movie. Not the stage setting with the Minister of Magic and the Muggle Prime Minister. Not when Harry followed Snape (when did he ever?). Not when Dumbledore died and Harry just watched instead of railing against being under a spell, not being able help. Not with the battle of Hogwarts taken out. There was none of that. None of what made the book so powerful for a non fanatic. None of what made you wail with grief at what happened and rage because you had to wait for the next book. None.
Go get a haircut instead. Or a pedicure, it may be time and money well spent.
This was after a very long day during the internecine corporate struggle. Ah, I’ve turned out to be the corporate monkey after all, regardless of my spite towards it. Hey you do it well or you don’t do it at all right?
I was mainly surly because I was waiting for my coffee.
"This is one tough baby to write, I don't even know if I am making things worse by bringing this out and God forbid pushing someone into the door. Yet it's a weekend, and even then all dances with Hypnos come with daybreak and just last a couple of hours at the most. Time has been spent with the muse too. Which nevertheless still made me unable to sleep. And here I find myself, with a sink full of dirty dishes, an unmade bed, a pot of stale coffee and cigarettes attempting to make sense of it all."
It all started I think about two and a half decades ago. I had thought I was playing under the blankets with an older female cousin, which somehow turned ugly. What she did to me felt good, but there was a stirring in me that said it was ugly at the same time. I remember softly crying as she reassured me that it was all "perfectly all right". That it was where the nanny soaped really well so that these could be done.
That incident occurred some more times after that, until one day I came home from playing, I saw her boarding one of our cars and the household driver loading all her things into it. She got sent to Granny in the province to be exiled.I learned about the reason a couple of months after that. I was on my way to pee when I chanced upon my mom talking to one of her sisters. Apparently she had "unnatural appetites". Since she was an orphan then, there had been no other place to take her except to Granny's.
I remember racing back to my bedroom, the urge forgotten, my mind racing and my face flushed with shame. Was that what I was now too? Unnatural?
*To be continued.....
"This is one tough baby to write, I don't even know if I am making things worse by bringing this out and God forbid pushing someone into the door. Yet it's a weekend, and even then all dances with Hypnos come with daybreak and just last a couple of hours at the most. Time has been spent with the muse too. Which nevertheless still made me unable to sleep. And here I find myself, with a sink full of dirty dishes, an unmade bed, a pot of stale coffee and cigarettes attempting to make sense of it all."
It all started I think about two and a half decades ago. I had thought I was playing under the blankets with an older female cousin, which somehow turned ugly. What she did to me felt good, but there was a stirring in me that said it was ugly at the same time. I remember softly crying as she reassured me that it was all "perfectly all right". That it was where the nanny soaped really well so that these could be done.
That incident occurred some more times after that, until one day I came home from playing, I saw her boarding one of our cars and the household driver loading all her things into it. She got sent to Granny in the province to be exiled.I learned about the reason a couple of months after that. I was on my way to pee when I chanced upon my mom talking to one of her sisters. Apparently she had "unnatural appetites". Since she was an orphan then, there had been no other place to take her except to Granny's.
I remember racing back to my bedroom, the urge forgotten, my mind racing and my face flushed with shame. Was that what I was now too? Unnatural?
*To be continued.....
Three accounts. Policy Administration. Property Claims Processing. Commercial Claims Processing. Five Countries that include two Mandarin speaking nations. Sometimes it’s so freaking fast you barely hear yourself think.
Three days in a quiet secluded enclave of the islands. Surf. Sun. Sand. A quiet hotel. Shake stalls. Nipa coffee huts. Away from everything. I didn’t even bring my laptop, wi-fi access and did not open my phone.
This is what weekends are supposed to look like. Long ones since the pay is just really for four hours of work everyday. That’s what the contract says anyway.
I really have to get this balancing thing down. And guess what? I think I’m finally starting to learn.
Three accounts. Policy Administration. Property Claims Processing. Commercial Claims Processing. Five Countries that include two Mandarin speaking nations. Sometimes it’s so freaking fast you barely hear yourself think.
Three days in a quiet secluded enclave of the islands. Surf. Sun. Sand. A quiet hotel. Shake stalls. Nipa coffee huts. Away from everything. I didn’t even bring my laptop, wi-fi access and did not open my phone.
This is what weekends are supposed to look like. Long ones since the pay is just really for four hours of work everyday. That’s what the contract says anyway.
I really have to get this balancing thing down. And guess what? I think I’m finally starting to learn.
know, I know. Thirty three and the body starts slowing down, so I have to watch the LDL and Cholesterol and blood sugar. I get that. But…. I get this too.
Dig the new Wendy’s Baconator. Three beef patties and a generous sprinkling of bacon to surefire clog up those arteries like gonk on an engine.
I did two extra laps of the jogging route to compensate for my unfaithfulness to the diet. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t.
Yummy!
know, I know. Thirty three and the body starts slowing down, so I have to watch the LDL and Cholesterol and blood sugar. I get that. But…. I get this too.
Dig the new Wendy’s Baconator. Three beef patties and a generous sprinkling of bacon to surefire clog up those arteries like gonk on an engine.
I did two extra laps of the jogging route to compensate for my unfaithfulness to the diet. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t.
Yummy!
I hate being mediocre. I am so scared I am. Oftentimes I end up botching things because I worry too much and kill the proverbial soup.
Very few people get me, and those that do need clarification. I am vague according to most folks and I scratch my head. I've been accused a lot of times of being "sagey". Whatever the hell that means.
I am dull. Yet am working on polishing myself. There are quite a number of folks who have stayed too to do it. I wonder what they get out of it.
I love to write. I do'n't give a rat's bee-hind anyway if you don't agree with what I write. I smirk at the thought of someone shaking their fists. It means they read everything. Ain't that dumb junior?
I love the good things in life. Both free and expensive. Acquired the taste. Like for muscles. (was that a pun or was in topographical error? tee hee)
I'd poison you and your family's brains given half the chance.
I am arrogant. But never malicious.
I put my foot in my mouth. And enjoy the communal embarassment it brings.
I like to pretend I'm stupid. Then hit you with a BAT. Which means I'm violent, not intelligent.
I contradict myself and my policies. Whenever occasion and vice applies.
I have three offers from firms right now for a higher post than what I currently have. Six figures. I've been an *ss most of the time so I guess I am a lackey donkey. (again, for the dambass, hint hint)
I hate being mediocre. I am so scared I am. Oftentimes I end up botching things because I worry too much and kill the proverbial soup.
Very few people get me, and those that do need clarification. I am vague according to most folks and I scratch my head. I've been accused a lot of times of being "sagey". Whatever the hell that means.
I am dull. Yet am working on polishing myself. There are quite a number of folks who have stayed too to do it. I wonder what they get out of it.
I love to write. I do'n't give a rat's bee-hind anyway if you don't agree with what I write. I smirk at the thought of someone shaking their fists. It means they read everything. Ain't that dumb junior?
I love the good things in life. Both free and expensive. Acquired the taste. Like for muscles. (was that a pun or was in topographical error? tee hee)
I'd poison you and your family's brains given half the chance.
I am arrogant. But never malicious.
I put my foot in my mouth. And enjoy the communal embarassment it brings.
I like to pretend I'm stupid. Then hit you with a BAT. Which means I'm violent, not intelligent.
I contradict myself and my policies. Whenever occasion and vice applies.
I have three offers from firms right now for a higher post than what I currently have. Six figures. I've been an *ss most of the time so I guess I am a lackey donkey. (again, for the dambass, hint hint)
The train doors open. It is a promise of wealth, redemption and Nirvana. Entering would mean transport commencing to that place where you hopefully distill your dreams into useable reality. You’ve taken time to prep yourself for the day, crisp ironed clothes, shined shoes, hair made up, and cologne. The day is to start full of promise. You try to take one step, to enter that gleaming cabin, and all hell breaks loose.
Suddenly you’re crushed in a wall of people, an elbow get jammed in your throat, a shoulder shoving you towards the left and another one pushing you to the right. You’re getting stepped on, and people are using you as a fulcrum to propel themselves forward. Worse, some pervert rubs his pecker into you, and he does not care if you’re Adam or Eve. What on earth happened?
Well on the MRT, education and culture does not play a factor. It is the law of the jungle that prevails, meaning the stronger you are the better off you are. Forget about lines, politeness and courtesy. Forget about letting women and children sit, let alone go first through the door. Forget about the elderly, after all they resort to hitting you with umbrellas or bags anyway.
The only rule that remains is, avoid getting run over by the train. The guards pretty much let everything slide as long as there are no closed fists flying. So feel free to use everything, like bending your knees and then launching yourself into that throng at the proper instant to get yourself a prime space. Or dip your shoulders and pretend you’re getting pushed so you can cut-off that line-cutter’s path to the train door and get yourself in. You get revenge and satisfaction all at the same time. Remember this, most of everyone will be fighting like hell to get themselves into the coach, they will be resorting to all manner of tricks, they will be cursing and verbally assaulting your sensibilities while they try to get the upper hand, but at the end of it, everyone is just relieved to not have to wait a little longer that they let it pass. Until it’s the time to go down, and the battle resumes yet again.
Do you need a useful tip? Learn Karate.
At the cost of the pain of admission, both literal and figurative, allow me to say that I am a commuter. For now; as I have not bought a new car yet. There is this phenomenon that I’ve noticed since starting to take the MRT to and from work. As the train glides to a halt the collective human body starts to stiffen, coiling like a spring and then launches with ferocity as the doors open. Braveheart could not have found a better rabble to follow him to the charge.
It has been a cause for amusement for me at first and then wonderment, which has now turned to plain curiosity. More than once this week I’ve caught myself almost tapping the person in front of me to ask why this daily ritual occurs. I maybe missing a huge portion of my life by mot being a part of it and it galls me no end. I end up retracting my hand and heading to my cave, dejected and disappointed. So here I find myself writing what I cannot ask, and maybe if one of the runners read it, would be kind enough to answer.
Here are my guesses to why this ritual occurs:
· It is a daily patriotic gesture, like the current fad of the sun and stars tee. The runners are imitating the great Andres Bonifacio
· There is a secret contest, the winner being the most consistent top finisher. The MRT honchos view the surveillance tapes and decide the weekly, monthly and annual winners
· It is training to join The Amazing Race
· As a part of cost cutting due to the current economic conditions, the companies the runners work for have foregone toilets and/or running water and hence, everyone is running home to pee or crap
· People want to catch Arnold Clavio or Noli De Castro or whoever supposedly non-partisan newscaster is on
· Manny Pacquiao is the contestant for “Dell or Noodle” errs…. I mean “Deal or No Deal” and it’s on permanent re-run
· There is a slap happy telenovela on the telly that’s taking the country by storm
· The Philippine government has allowed porn on free telly from five in the afternoon to seven in the evening
· People have taken the phrase “rat race” too seriously
· The runners were not really listening when “RUSH HOUR” was explained in class
· The runners have incredibly wonderful spouses….bed bed bed baby
· The runners incredibly wonderful spouses are having a romp with the wonderful neighbor
· In the absence of career growth, the mad dash is to exorcise all that unused competitive juice
· The last one is a rotten egg?
At the cost of the pain of admission, both literal and figurative, allow me to say that I am a commuter. For now; as I have not bought a new car yet. There is this phenomenon that I’ve noticed since starting to take the MRT to and from work. As the train glides to a halt the collective human body starts to stiffen, coiling like a spring and then launches with ferocity as the doors open. Braveheart could not have found a better rabble to follow him to the charge.
It has been a cause for amusement for me at first and then wonderment, which has now turned to plain curiosity. More than once this week I’ve caught myself almost tapping the person in front of me to ask why this daily ritual occurs. I maybe missing a huge portion of my life by mot being a part of it and it galls me no end. I end up retracting my hand and heading to my cave, dejected and disappointed. So here I find myself writing what I cannot ask, and maybe if one of the runners read it, would be kind enough to answer.
Here are my guesses to why this ritual occurs:
· It is a daily patriotic gesture, like the current fad of the sun and stars tee. The runners are imitating the great Andres Bonifacio
· There is a secret contest, the winner being the most consistent top finisher. The MRT honchos view the surveillance tapes and decide the weekly, monthly and annual winners
· It is training to join The Amazing Race
· As a part of cost cutting due to the current economic conditions, the companies the runners work for have foregone toilets and/or running water and hence, everyone is running home to pee or crap
· People want to catch Arnold Clavio or Noli De Castro or whoever supposedly non-partisan newscaster is on
· Manny Pacquiao is the contestant for “Dell or Noodle” errs…. I mean “Deal or No Deal” and it’s on permanent re-run
· There is a slap happy telenovela on the telly that’s taking the country by storm
· The Philippine government has allowed porn on free telly from five in the afternoon to seven in the evening
· People have taken the phrase “rat race” too seriously
· The runners were not really listening when “RUSH HOUR” was explained in class
· The runners have incredibly wonderful spouses….bed bed bed baby
· The runners incredibly wonderful spouses are having a romp with the wonderful neighbor
· In the absence of career growth, the mad dash is to exorcise all that unused competitive juice
· The last one is a rotten egg?
You find yourself angsty about getting leapfrogged or you crashed on the interview again. Or maybe you can't get to the next managerial level. Or maybe you haven't felt like you have reached the trough yet, and wonder why your team is collapsing around you. Regardless of what people say and how we all say we are individuals we all fall prey to certain factors, that are generalized and if used effectively can lay the gorundwork for a harmonious team. Or at least a team you got buy-in from. So let's see; what do you do with -
A. Subordinate who talks the talk yet has poor quality or has slipshod work (doesn't have to be an agent, could be an RTA,QA Sup, Ops Sup, RTA Sup, Line Manager whose work needs double checking).
B. Subordinate who likes to do extended hours, but it's because the work is not finished in the time frame that is acceptable.
C. Subordinate who always complains about having a lot to do, when the workload is partitioned and accountabilities defined. Then applies for the next level.
D. Subordinate who isn't meeting key results indicators but is a kiss-*ss
E. Subordinate who is clueless (e.g. it's alright to go on AUX or to leave your post indefinitely, you get paid anyway)
F. Subordinate who raises hell about pay and appraisals yet has been lagging behind and is undependable
G. Subordinate who is dependable but is unbelievably learning handicapped
H. Subordinate who cannot speak straight english, never mind having an accent
I. Subordinate who had been previously your go to person but now cannot stand the sight of you
You find yourself angsty about getting leapfrogged or you crashed on the interview again. Or maybe you can't get to the next managerial level. Or maybe you haven't felt like you have reached the trough yet, and wonder why your team is collapsing around you. Regardless of what people say and how we all say we are individuals we all fall prey to certain factors, that are generalized and if used effectively can lay the gorundwork for a harmonious team. Or at least a team you got buy-in from. So let's see; what do you do with -
A. Subordinate who talks the talk yet has poor quality or has slipshod work (doesn't have to be an agent, could be an RTA,QA Sup, Ops Sup, RTA Sup, Line Manager whose work needs double checking).
B. Subordinate who likes to do extended hours, but it's because the work is not finished in the time frame that is acceptable.
C. Subordinate who always complains about having a lot to do, when the workload is partitioned and accountabilities defined. Then applies for the next level.
D. Subordinate who isn't meeting key results indicators but is a kiss-*ss
E. Subordinate who is clueless (e.g. it's alright to go on AUX or to leave your post indefinitely, you get paid anyway)
F. Subordinate who raises hell about pay and appraisals yet has been lagging behind and is undependable
G. Subordinate who is dependable but is unbelievably learning handicapped
H. Subordinate who cannot speak straight english, never mind having an accent
I. Subordinate who had been previously your go to person but now cannot stand the sight of you
So another weekend came and went, and with finding the time to clean my lenses I had the strong urge to Marie Kondo my current glass line-u...
