I hate to admit it but I’ve become boring.
I have always liked to think of my self as unpredictable, but now, I concede to the fact that I am leagues away from that notion. I have become the very anti-thesis to unpredictability. I have become procedural and schedule-bound. Gone now is that perceived notion of Chaos in my life and works. Gone also are the dysfunctional elements in my life that make me feel unique. In fact, the only thing that is left unstable is my mind.
I have become predictable. I have become time-bound. I have become boring. Damn, I’ve even become redundant.
I have become… an accountant.
"Accountants are not boring people, they just get excited over boring stuff." I think I’ve written that before… but now, it becomes painfully apparent and hurtfully true in my case.
Even my blog entries can attest to my being such a bore. I mean, who would ever want to hear of someone else’s boring day job, for crying out loud! And here I am, ranting about it on three consecutive occasions.
I need something to perk me up, to jump start by life. I know it still wouldn’t be exiting and adventure-packed, but at least it shouldn’t be boring.
And redundant.
And annoying.
And most importantly, about work.
published in friendster blog April 21st, 2008
Earlier today, I was riven from my morning slumber by urgent calls from below. "Magnanakaw! Magnanakaw! Magnanakaw!" screamed a woman from 3 floors down. Chismoso that I am, I looked down my window to see a woman i red desperately, and vainly, trying to catch up with a thug on a motorcycle.
Said thug, by the way, was very much complacent, running his bike on minor gear, assured that the woman wouldn’t catch up. He turned a corner and disappeared from view. A few minutes later, I hear the sonic boom of a revved up motorcycle. Probably Mr. Thug doubling back and returning from the cesspool from whence he came.
That was the second time I was torn from my morning routine by wildly screaming victims of petty theft. The first instance was a few months ago, February, I think. What irks me about these things is not that it happens on our street, but that it happens aside from the fact that our community pools a monthly collection for the benefit of baranggay patrol.
Oftentimes, I see the tambays tanods keeping post on the corner nearest our place. It is ironic though, that both snatchers crossed that corner where the patrols keep their post at night. Okay, provided it was 6am that the thieving occurred, and probably beyond their patrol hours, but why is it that, despite their nightly rounds, snatchers and petty thieves abound our place?! Is it because the thugs have no fear of God and Law, and certainly not baranggay tanods? Or is it that their nightly vigil is at most flippant and not entirely dissuasive of crime?
Or maybe the thugs already know their schedules, and can easily maneuver their hits around the watchers’ guard hours. I don’t know.
But do I really care, stoic that I am? Maybe. Having been victimized myself by petty thieves, I do feel for that lady, desperately catching up, trying to regain her belongings — pieces of her life — that was snatched from her. At least, they were only things, those belongings snatched from her. Those can be replaced, albeit stressful and cumbersome.
And Mr Thug, dude, Karma will get you. As some of my friends point out: "Digital na ang Karma", it wouldn’t wait for reincarnation for your comeuppance. And as the Chinese curse go, "May you live in Interesting Times".
published in friendster blog April 19th, 2008
