I woke up with a heavy head. The migraine I had the day before had not really gone away even if I downed two 550 mgs of Flanax. I slept over my migraine and as I woke at seven in the morning it was back subtly. I grabbed my Flanax downing another and pulled my phone. I had a message from the Colonel...

“Gud a.m. Hope you are okay, basang*. As I attended the semi-nar on responsible parenting, I re-viewed my life and how parented you. It was not as good as what the LORD wanted parents should do, so I ask you for your forgiveness. I love you in the LORD.”

I rubbed my eyes trying to move my spirit from sleep to reality and read the message again. The message did not change. So I AM awake. And the message is really there. I placed the phone under my pillow and felt the pull of Flanax bring me to sleep land again.

In my sleep I dreamt of the message and my mind was working on how to respond to it. How do YOU respond to that sort of message? Do you say I forgive you and all the years are done for? Do you grip on the angst and resentment but be polite by saying okay? I was speechless even in my dreams. But as I dreamed a box of memories I have long ago hid and bolted opened and out came the past pain, hurt, and abandonment...

How do you respond to such apology?

After asking my mother to get rid of me when I was still in her womb.

After being given a name to remind him that I have to be loved.

After years of being ignored.

After years of being asked to face the wall.

After years of being hit by a belt buckle.

After years of being slapped, kicked, and dragged.

After years of being pinched because I would laugh so much.

After being asked to leave the house and not come back at the age of seven.

After being carted to my aunt's house at the age of nine because he would not support my education.

How do you respond to such apology?

After throwing all my paintings and my art.

After being raped at the age of eighteen and be told I deserve it because I'm a flirt.

After being told not to kiss him because he felt Judas was kissing him.

After looking at me in surprise that I graduated with honors and saying “May utak ka pala anak?!?” (You have a brain, child?!?)

After being told that “if I can hit you until you die I would” and then afterwards tell me he has an illegitimate son.

After being beaten up by him when he found out I felt I was adopted.

After being told that I am of only using him as a source of money.

After shouting at me because I was pushed by his favorite child in an empty pool.

After showing preference over all my other siblings except me.

After being told that I am the greatest regret of his life.

How do you respond to such apology?

After being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder caused by your parents.

After shouldering the expense of therapists and drugs.

After knowing that I have a mental disorder and being told they knew about it all along but being told they did not know how to handle me.

After all the physical, emotional, psychological and even spiritual abuse...

How do you respond to such apology?

I want to tell him he's too late, the damage has been done. I want to tell him I forgive him but I question the veracity of such words. I want to tell him it's been so long ago that I can't remember it but I do like it was only yesterday. I want to tell him I regret living too because it caused me this much problems. I want to tell him I'm sorry for being in his life and causing him to be a bad parent but I know it isn't my fault. I want to turn back time and let him start over but that isn't possible. I want to tell him I'm grateful for being alive even if there are too many painful memories, but I know in my heart it isn't true.

But I am speechless whether in sleep or awake. So I sit here typing...enduring the return of the memories long ago I I have buried while the message in my phone waits to be replied to.

*Basang - and Ilocano endearment for little girl

Five years ago I was in hiding. After witnessing a murder of a high profile official, I had to quit my job and start hiding. I am not one to be paranoid but seeing a gunner's face is something that will never go away. It was crazy. And I had become more skittish afraid I'd be trapped and be six feet under. 

In the days when NBI agents would pick me up and pressure me to identify the gunner. I met Mr. Lawyer. Back then he was a second year law student at San Beda University. But even if he was not physically where I was, his arrogance and egotism was oozing from the computer screen that had it not been the fact he was a plane ride away I would have obliged meeting him and smack his face. Proposing SEB on our first meeting was his first line. No matter how much I declined he was persistent. Maybe he thought I was being hard to get that was why he kept on chatting me. Whatever. It was between talking about politics and law that he told me that I was one of the people he chatted that actually showed some brain power. It felt like a master throwing a bone to his dog. I was infuriated.

Maybe the craziness of the events surrounding the murder had made me vulnerable. Maybe his arrogance piqued my curiosity. Maybe I am gullible. Whatever. I gave my number before we said goodbye. And that was the start of our love and hate.

I cannot think of him without thinking of Rose. The woman who has made him paranoid of all women. I had sleepless nights thinking how does a woman have so much power over a man looked like. I had imagine her tall with legs that never ended, sexy and luscious, outwardly shy but a sex fiend in bed. How could she break arrogant, narcissistic, sarcastic Mr. Lawyer? And as I kept on thinking how she looked like, spasmodic feelings of envy, hate, and jealousy would course through me. I remember wanting to trample on that bitch. And that was when I realized I had fallen for Mr. Lawyer.

They said that if you write about a person, you write good things. But to write good things about him would sound trite. He isn't your regular good guy. He even, at times, looked like a gangster with his poise and arrogance. But there I was making a fool of myself professing my love for him. He didn't laugh like I expected him to do, instead he asked me to be careful. He would rather not hear me say that I love him. But I told him that even if I hold my tongue and not say such things I would still feel it, there was no sense of not letting him know. I said I would wait. Wait until his doubts fade. Wait until his insecurities would silence. Wait until he would believe. Wait until he would understand that even if love is unrequited, one need not feel anger. Even if love is neglected, one can love again. He said he admired my optimism.

A person who gave love to someone who would not dare receive. I've always imagined us standing on the opposite sides of the river. And even if we ended up friends rather than lovers, I have no regrets at all. Because even if he was a jerk, he was a jerk who knew what he wanted and did it. And I've always admired him for that.

"Ang bata pa nila no?" (They are so young right?)

Gretch who was sitting beside me was pointing at a couple on her computer screen. I looked closer at her screen and saw a picture of a woman in a wedding dress and a groom beside her. Both smiling. Both looking blissful. The guy looks young but the woman looked older, whoever did her makeup probably wasn't paid much. "Pila ilang edad?" (How old are they?) I replied as I looked back at my own screen. She said the guy was 21 and the woman was 24. Oh so she is older and no make-up could hide that. As I watch Kang Jae ask Mi Joo if she liked him a thought came into my mind. "Is she pregnant?" I asked. Gretch replied yes. I pushed further "Ahh, kaya pala" (That's why).

"She didn't want to get married but the guy wanted to", Gretchen said to her friend's defense. I didn't reply. There was no reason to argue, it wasn't my life, she wasn't my family. Twenty-four and married. I could not imagine that.

At thirteen, I remember being beaten up by the Colonel because he said I was a flirt. He thinks I'd get knocked up so young by a probinsyano because I would often be walking home from school with a guy. I didn't know what the fuss is. I was naïve and had no idea that a vagina and a penis together would equate to babies and responsibilities. I wanted to ask him why was he beating me up but asking meant more beating up. 

At fourteen, I decided not to marry young, this after finding out that my dad has an illegitimate son. I remember looking at my mother the day he made that confession and I was wondering why she was not crying, how can she endure his infidelity. But then later on I found out she knew it for some time already.

At eighteen, I decided not to get pregnant single. This after Tanduay Girl got pregnant and was coerced by the Power Couple to marry. I saw how vulnerable she became. All her life she was told what to do and how to do it. And her getting married was the final blow. I wanted to argue for her. I wanted to ask the Power Couple not to force her to marriage. But I was to weak then. I was afraid. So I made a choice not to get pregnant, this was my way of fighting for her.

At twenty-one, I said yes to a wedding proposal. But we broke up. And even if I cried everyday for six months after that I realized later on it was a good decision. Because when I saw the guy a year after I couldn't imagine myself making love to that guy in the first place.

In between those years are countless stories of friends whose spouse cheats, are separated, alcoholic, more cheating, drug addict, squandering, gambler, estrangement, wife beating, and more cheating. Now at twenty-eight people ask me when will I settle down. They think I am at the right age. And I scoff every time someone broaches that topic. Why do they want me to settle down? As if marriage is a lounge chair you sit on and have a good time.

Marriage takes a lot of work. But I am the laziest person. Marriage is until death. But I will not stay if a man cheats. Marriage is sharing. But I don't like sharing my pillow to anyone. Marriage is commitment to the one choice you made. But I could not even decide when to get up in the morning. Marriage is for people who are brave. But I am a coward...I cannot stand being hurt or disappointed. Marriage is loving even if the person is unlovable. But I can't even love after I get hurt. Marriage is forgiveness. But I can't even let go of my past pains. 

I know that sometimes a string will tug in my heart when I see wedding rings, I would be wistful when I hear Pachelbel's Cannon in D Major, my head would turn when I see a bridal car, my steps would slow down as I pass by wedding gowns and the thought of being Mrs. to someone would make me gush. But after the ceremony and the honeymoon, when both show flaws and commit mistakes unforgivable, the gooey things I feel about marriage goes faster than you can spell Love.

I believe in marriage so much that I admit I cannot do it. Not yet. Perhaps I have the wrong reasons for not wanting to get married. But I cannot think of a good reason to say to someone until death do us part. So until I have no good reason to, I won't get married. As for that twenty-four woman in the picture, I hope she would still smile radiantly (with less make-up, please) beside her husband fifty years from now. Good luck! Really.

It's been awhile since I mentioned Mr. Gigolo. Although him and I still talk, gone are the days of passion and lust where my iSight would be on for hours because we were like high school sweethearts giggling over stupid stuff.

Last night we were Skype-ing and he kept on asking me when would I be in Canada. And the honest answer is there is no specific date yet. I have submitted my papers and my VISA application is already with the Embassy but I have no date as to when I will leave. But I didn't say that to him. I gave him a grin and he said, "You don't want to tell me." How he can read me so well always made me wonder. Yeah, I don't want to tell him, even if I had the specific date, and when I do have that date (whenever THAT happens) I still don't want to tell. Call me presumptive but I can read him much more better than how he reads me. I know that the moment I get to Canada he will make a concerted effort to see me...and seduce me. 

Honestly, I don't want that to happen.

After our last divorce I found my attraction to him dissolve close to nothingness. Maybe being with him more often has caused this paradigm shift. Maybe the fidelity I wanted that Mr. Gigolo could not give thumped me to reality . Maybe because I've decided I'm done playing games and this has caused me to mellow.

Him and I do not want the same things so why should I kow tow to what he wants? Yeah sure he is hot and maybe I won't have a lover as generous and good-looking as him, but what use is his looks and generosity at the moment I fall in love when he won't be there to catch me? Why he wants to fly from Texas to Canada just to see me is something I don't understand. Players don't do that. Because if he does it would plant thoughts to a woman's mind. Thoughts like love, ring, vows, forever, us. And he doesn't want it. So I really don't get why he wants to go see me. Sure fine he can see me only if he is within 10 miles of where I am. But if he has to ride a plane just to see me, forget it. 

I've tried to explain to him what I want by phrasing it in a way that it would benefit him. I think I failed that. He came back to me today and said that he understands and I do make sense when he thought about what I said. Did he buy it? Sure he did. So I asked the final question, is he still going to make an all out effort to see me when I get to the country above his and that made him squirm and he said "o D, y do u ask me such things? I miss u and I'm lonely, so I really want to see u". 

Whoa! If it weren't for all those men the past 15 years I would have felt insulted with that. As much as I didn't want to hurt him, I knew then that I had to be straightforward with him and tell him what I want without phrasing it like before so I did. "i am telling you that i DON'T ever want to be in an emotional state as what you made Jessica go through." 

I will not be the woman who will give four years only to be told that my boyfriend wants to break up with me because he wants to date around. I will not be the woman who will be expected to be home whenever he wants a good fuck but he would be unavailable when I need him. I will not be the woman who would forego having children because he can't commit. I will not be the woman who is paranoid every time I see my man talking to someone on the phone. I will not be the woman who would be scared every time she sees her man checking out another pretty chick. I will not be the woman who would be wishing this year her boyfriend will propose. I will not be the woman who will be crying because even if she knew from the very beginning that the guy is a jerk she still tried to change the man. I will not be the woman who after giving up so much she would be left alone and with nothing but a broken heart and a broken spirit.

Having said that he finally understood.

David Cook won! By like a million zillion votes more than my choice - David Archuleta. 


Even if little David didn't win there was no question he himself is a winner also. His father is such a bummer though. Reminds me of some people who bummed me today oops... that's for a different entry. I bet he got more bummed because it seemed like his son was to get the title. Nevermind. David A. got his own Ford Hybrid anyway.


David Cook is clearly a great talent also, and when he was moved to tears when Ryan Seacrest told him he was the new American Idol I was touched that he was so overwhelmed. I don't understand why I was crying with him! Hello!?! TV has fried my brains and turned me to mush. 


Enough said. Let's get back to our regular programming. 

My bet is on David Archuleta even if David Cook is yummy.

I saw him again. I've been seeing him too often lately. After breaking my heart more than once, getting chest pains, seeing my doctor, being given a prescription not to see him, him making fun of me again, here I am and writing about seeing him AGAIN. If you think I'm crazy and masochistic you have no idea what mental flagellation I go through asking myself why I keep on doing this...I mean hello!?! I am D - people think I'm heartless, unyielding, determined, the chick in control. Yet the moment he comes along I am but a child - gullible and desperate to be accepted. WHY!?!

But finally I found the answer.

I was watching Grey's Anatomy Season 4 where Meredith can't sleep and Cristina diagnoses severe abandonment issues. She wonders if maybe Meredith should stop having "breakup sex" with Derek. Almost at the end, Meredith tells Cristina she can't give up sleeping with Derek, because it's not about the sex, it's about the moment afterwards, when she feels safe in his arms. She asks if that makes her pathetic and Cristina says, "A little bit."

That was it. And I found it pathetic. I found this whole thing pathetic but I can't stop now. Not yet. Especially after he says "Goodnight. I love you." I find it the grossest afterwards but when he says it I'm grossly cheerful and contented that he loves me. Even if at the back of my mind a voice warns me that he is lying and that I am not the only woman he is saying those words. Even if I wake up hyperventilating because I dream of him making out with some woman. Even if inside I feel he doesn't love me. Even if a part of me is asking he stop cavorting and just let me go. Even if I have to take my Zs just to cope.

I know. I KNOW!!! It.is.the.most.pathetic.thing.ever. Like those applicants who can't sell themselves but desperately need a job except my case is ten times loser case than them. Now I need to stop typing and whip myself.

I'm holing up in my room this weekend. The entire week was a blurry of faces of applicants and résumés. My disorders can't deal with anymore people for now. 

But seriously, I don't know which I can't swallow more: 

1. the fact that I am forced, by position and title, to ask them personal questions which makes me get to know them more even if I don't want to; OR

1.    2. the fact that some of the applicants me and my boss talked to do not know how to answer interview questions and show proper decorum to the interviewer.

I suppose it is the latter. Nothing bothers me more than applicants who clearly are in desperate need of a job but are not qualified because they don't know how to sell themselves effectively to their prospective employer. 

Today an applicant, itago na lang natin sya sa pangalang Maria, was scheduled for an interview. She came an hour early because she came from Danao which is like an hour away from the city. I explained to her that I could not interview her then and there as she was an hour early and we had to go to lunch. Maria smiled and said "I'm so sorry" she put her palms together like in a prayer and then bowed to me over and over. That bothered me because I don't like being bowed to unless you're Japanese and she clearly wasn't. She looked up to me explaining she came from Danao just for this interview. Now she made me feel guilty. Gah!!! DON'T MAKE ME FEEL GUILTY!!! I smiled politely and fought the urge to raise my eyebrow and suggested she wait in the canteen across our office. She was so sweet and polite and obedient and then I felt more guilty for being a bitch.

1 PM and interview time. Me and my boss are a tag team on this and the truth is, if we don't like you even if your IQ is 100% we won't recommend you. My boss did most of the asking while I did the observing and typing. We asked her how she heard about our company and she said her sister works in a library and found our ad. Not a bad start. We asked if she knows what our company does and she replied "I reli don't know but I red in your website that you help other companies by giving dem leds." ................Errrhmmmm...............ooooookaaaaayyyyyyy. I looked at my boss and his edges of his eyes crinkled she smiled at her and he asked Maria to tell more of herself. She smiled sweetly and I moved to the edge of my seat so I can hear her.

"I'm Maria and I live in Danao. I am hardworking, patient, can work under pressure..." I started checking my nails while she kept at it and I remembered that I need to call my dad and tell him about developments in my VISA requirements and I wonder what time I can leave  "...I believe I am capable of working for your company because it needs accuracy and I believe I have that and that I am patient, I love surfing the internet, I love reading books, I love also listening to music, yes I love music..." I started tapping my foot "...I am also hardworking..." yes you said that already "...I am patient..." I'm NOT, stop!!! "...and I love reading books." Mr. G asked what books she love reading and she replied "I don't know the author but it was living and loving" I looked at my boss and said "Leo Buscaglia's Living Loving, Learning" and with this Maria nodded enthusiastically and started crooning how much she enjoyed it at the same time gushing as she started sharing quotes that inspired her ................Errrhmmmm...............ooooookaaaaayyyyyyy.

Mr. G started explaining to her what our company does and there Maria started breaking apart. I thought she would literally faint because her face reflected convolution to what my boss said. I gave her points for being inquisitive but minus points when her questions became redundant. This is getting to be really sad.

We had another employee demonstrate what they do so she can grasp the scope of support better but she looked overwhelmed after. Uh-oh. This is not good. She approached me and I gave her the standard spiel that if she is accepted we will contact her two weeks, Maria nodded and smiled and thanked me sweetly as she left the office. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawww! Now I felt the guiltiest because mentally I did not put her in my shortlist of applicants who passed.

I sighed as I sat on my chair and started thinking how much I wanted to hold her hand during the interview and give her a quick do's and dont's in an interview. I wanted her to have the job for the sake of having a job and I wished she was better. Mentally I was trying to figure out how I was going to give a positive synopsis of her interview and I started typing on my Journler.

"D" Mr. G called my name softly, "you know that last girl..." I replied "Maria? Yeah, what about her?" He moved his head closer to me and whispered "I tried so hard not to laugh during the interview"

Crap. There it is. She ain't gonna make it. Not here. Not now.

This video reminds me sooo much of my mom... Wish she said the things in a rap but then again I'd prolly laugh and not take her seriously which would infuriate her more.

Thank you Kat for making me laugh with this. =)

Today is a rainy day here. I'm not complaining, my place is not one of those cities that is too polluted clouds would produce acid rain. I actually like it when it rains... whether it's small rain, fat rain, rain that goes sideways, and even rain with wind, lightning, and thunder. 

I remember when I fell in love with this drops of water from the sky. I was sixteen and standing on a picket line as we blocked the main entrance of UP Los Baños. We had been there for a week under the heat of the sun and the cold of the night, dauntlessly protesting against the Chancellor and the government because of the tuition fee increase (which seriously is overrated because more than 70% of UP's students are Bracket 9, meaning they are monied). My friend Arnold was sitting beside me, who was from Quezon, was silently convincing me of starting a leftist group inside the campus. To create a leftist vanguard that will prevent such atrocities and corruption. I kept on thinking maybe this is why NPAs proliferate in Quezon (this was the time before Arnold became a born again).

I didn't know how to respond to him without hurting his feelings. He was my best friend. As I sat there trying to come up of ways how to decline his offer it started to drizzle, my first expectation was the students would run for cover. As the drizzle became an outpour and I saw the students still sitting and beside me Arnold sat still I looked up to the gray sky and smile.

"You know the raindrops," I said out loud without looking at him, "they remind me of the people we meet in life." 

"What do you mean?" he replied. "Well, we don't meet all the people in the world that's why not all raindrops fall on us. But they do have an impact on us still, indirectly" I looked at him "And those that drop on us and drench us are people who touch our core, our being and may cause us suffering or cause us to feel refreshed."

He nodded in agreement. And that day it made me happy that me and Arnold was able to let go of the present moment for a few minutes and enjoy the rain. Everytime it rains, I still remember that day. And then I offer a silent thanks to the God.

I had been going over applications. Going through thousands of résumés is really time consuming but what cracks me up about this task are the things I get to read. Some of them may brighten up my day while a few makes me burst into laughter or makes me totally peeved (depending on my sugar level).

When applying for a job these are the things you may NOT want to write on your Summary of Qualifications:
"Typing Skill - 49 words per minute." - This is discouraged especially if the company you are applying for has a typing test.
"My greatest skill is i am keen to details, computer literate, very logical and analytical person." - If you claim to be keen on details then you must ensure that your "I" are in upper case.
"well, i am armed with sterling work ethics and had obtained 21 units in MBA. In this, i think, I could propel and fire up to handle the position as a researcher." - Unless you're applying as an assassin this would appear exaggerated. And hello, what do you mean by "I could propel and fire up"?!?!
"good eye-to-hand coordination" - Don't throw words around unless you know what it means. It's hand-eye coordination, sweetie. If you ain't sure then look it up and you better know what it means in case it's brought up by your interviewer.
"Above average English. I like working with computer specially when it come to customer oriented.." - Uhmmm...This got me grinning.
"Im a computer skill 40 to 50 words per minute." - It's not just the speed but the accuracy. If you gotta brag make sure you got something to back it up.
"INTERESTED IN THE POSITION." - One, there's no need to shout. Two, we know you are interested otherwise why apply. And third, can you at least follow the instruction by making a list of your qualification.
"My left brain is well-developed." -Seriously!?!

Because of the internet, online application makes applying for a job convenient. But it can be tricky. You wonder if real people read the stuff you put there. Let me assure you that there are people who read online applications and one of them happen to me. I hate to discriminate, I like the sense of humor but I'd rather applicants make sense. It makes my job easier and applicants are hired faster.

I've had a good solid week not seeing him. Pretty impressive is the fact that I didn't text him. Okay I did but only to respond to him. I did not, however, initiate texts with him. I got to the part where I told him I should not see him anymore because he is killing me oh so softly.

My progress was showing promise. Until yesterday when he started texting again and I was stupid enough to invite him to watch Iron Man with me. Fuck!!! Despite me asking him not to look at me coldly, I kinda knew things would get screwed around. Specifically, I WILL GET SCREWED AROUND AGAIN!

I had to stand by my invitation and decided a little movie won't hurt. As I rode in his car we started catching up and him sharing his mom left already for Bicol yesterday...hmmm, that's why he remembered to text me again. As we got off the car in the basement parking and started walking towards the mall entrance he grabbed my hand. I wanted to pull back. This will just hurt me again, I kept on hearing in my head. But I didn't mind it and continued.

After the movie, we started driving to my place. It was close to midnight and I was already rehearsing my thank-you line. Upon reaching my place he parked his cars. I can hear alarm bells in my head. My mind was shouting at me and I thought I was gonna faint with the ringing in my ears, "He's gonna sleep over. Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna get hurt more. Why do I always invite trouble. How the hell am I gonna make him leave?!?" 

I was stuck. I allowed myself to get to this position and now I gotta pay for it. He did sleep over. And I wished badly the story ended when he left this morning. But it didn't. 

Twelve hours after he drove home, him and I started texting again. He asked how I was and I shared that I was worried that there might not be water tomorrow when I go to work as there has been no water from the faucet since this morning. He sent a response not a few minutes after, "Hahaha! Good luck!"

When I read those words the memories started unfurling in my mind. Of how he never respected me. How he never really made me feel special. How he took for granted the things I did for him. How he always made me feel so beneath him. How he never gave value of our relationship. How many tears I have cried before just for him to see me. How I would always be expected to be there but not him. How I lived and breathed all his needs. How he took this all for granted. I remembered the past. And I remembered well.

I started attacking him and defending myself. I never cheated on him with Mr. Gigolo, I did everything based on his definition of cool off. Whatever that is. And when he saw he was really losing me already that was when he tried to work double time to win me back. Because I chose to be with Mr. Gigolo, because I could not allow myself to introduce him to my family, because I could not have him then at my point in my career...I know that now he is trying to get even with me. To take things just because I fell for him again. He is at it again. Using me. Disregarding me. Making me feel dumb. 

The old cliché is misery loves company. But I know I don't have to be miserable. I don't have to let him hurt me anymore. I don't have to let my self-esteem be trampled. I don't have to be begged to be loved. I don't have to be treated like crap anymore. I'm through with it. I'm through with him. I'm through being screwed by guys like him.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

I was sitting on one of the most uncomfortable chairs in the world. A visit with my cardio because of my persistent heart pain has caused this discomfort on my butt. It's quite obvious that I need not see her, I knew what was wrong and how to fix it but a teeny weeny part of me was hoping I was wrong. 

Tough luck. As I sat in front of her she started quizzing me about my diet. “I'm now pescetarian“. She smiled and I'm glad I got that point. Next question was my smoking. “Lesser but still at it“. Her smile disappeared but she didn't comment. Next was my drinking. “Almost gone doc. I drank a month ago. And that was only one glass of margarita“. She started nodding her head again. Now she came to the part I used to hate to answer, my job. “I quit the call center.“ This I think got me an A+ because she started saying “Good. Good.“ like I was some puppy that didn't pee on her lap.

She asked me to unbutton two buttons of my green blouse so she can listen to my chest. I followed her instruction to breathe in and breathe out and she started asking when my heart started hurting. “Three to four weeks ago doc“ and then she said “I think you should stay overnight for testing, just in case.“

Damn no! I have no Maxicare to pay her and her expensive lab tests!!! So I tried to wiggle my way out of it saying maybe I just need a refill of trusty Z. This made her frown.

Here comes the sermon of the doc, “I have talked to your psychiatrist and she mentioned that during the most stressful time in your career last December to January you did not have any heart pain.“ I swallowed. “Your taking anti-depressants does not help your heart become better. I don't want to happen what you went through two years ago.“  Aaargh!!! Why is she right!!! I'm smart, I can get out of this overnight stay for one in a sad hospital where no one will visit me. Worse the nurses will pity me!!! I tried again.

I confessed that I have no money to pay for hospital bills and seeing her today is cinching me already in the wallet. She listened and had this motherly look that made me want to weep and ask her to adopt me (I always wish my mom had that look sometimes). She replied by asking me what my mother never ever asks me, “How is your love life?“ She could have made it harder for me by adding “and why?“ 

I fumbled that there was no love life. Nada. Rien. Nichts. Niente. Wala. Okay, okay. I wasn't that rude. I said there was no love but there is sex with the ex and then there's the complications of unrequited love. “Hmmm...Okay“ she responded and asked me to button my blouse. She asked when was the last time I saw him. “He dropped by last week at like past 3 in the morning to take a shower because he was full of glitters... And when he left he still has this you-are-still-nothing-to-me-biatch look and it made me really sad and my chest hurt.“ 

As I moved back to sit on the chair across her she started writing down my prescription. I was having second thoughts of buying this drug because I know it's gonna be 3x a day 10 day drug and it'll be around P150 per tablet. Add my Zs. Whoooowheeeeeeee! There goes my embassy fee. 

She passed me the piece of paper and I immediately folded it. I said thank you and asked her if I needed to come back soon. She smiled mischievously and said, “Only if the pain comes back, which should not if you follow my prescription. And I promise you, if your pain persist I'll give you more tests than you can afford.“ Hmmmmm...I had this urge to read it then. Discipline, discipline.

I paid the usual six hundred and started to walk towards the elevator. As I waited for the elevator I pulled out my prescription and read my meds.

“Rx: Stop seeing your ex. Daily.“

You just gotta love that cardio. She knows it well with matters of the heart.

Four months after being given the boot by The Corporation I find myself in the front of Mr. G, my boss of a month now. I was smoking and drinking my daily dose of Coca-Cola when he came up to me and talked to me of my future in the company.

I would honestly admit that it didn't come as a surprise that my boss had plans for me. So did all who met me. Since I started working when I was 18 my bosses had plans. Plans to bring me up in lofty places. Plans of seeing me grow in the company. At the start I was pretty excited and had the desire to give it my best shot at all times. 

I shared this news to Mr. Gigolo with fake enthusiasm. He was happy, of course, too happy to notice that I was faking it. After my own mentor stabbed my back last year, I realized today that I have trust issues. I work without the desire to please my boss anymore. I do my shit because I am having fun. And disgust creeps in when the boss talks about promotions because maybe behind those words are venom waiting to poison my heart again.