Work Woes

Everyone knows I should be the last person who should complain about work. My boss is an angel, I have practically no deadlines, and the pay is good (I know I don't deserve it). But there are days when I really just feel like hurling documents across the room because nothing makes sense.

Even the bird is angry.

Today, for instance, I am torn between ripping these transcripts to pieces or setting on fire the stenographer who transcribed it. How does it happen that between two lawyers talking, a question beginning with "how" is answered by a "yes"?

But before I give in to my criminal tendencies, I have to remind myself that my boss probably feels the same way about me, for the unexplained delays in the delivery of my finished work.

Arrg. Back to work.

Bitter

Being surrounded with kids at work makes me recall all my nursery rhymes and other songs I memorized as a child (has anyone heard of Petrushka??). 

My work desk on a typical day.

There is only one children's song I hate: When You Wish Upon a Star. When you're a kid, you're only good at singing along. But then you grow up, get hurt, and experience pain worse than scraped knees and elbows. I used to stand at our balcony at night and stare at the star-sudded sky. The lyrics of that horrible song would creep into my mind, and my desperate heart would cling on to the promises of that song:

When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desire

Will come to you...

But of course, that never happens. All that wanting can only get you so far. You can wish on all the stars in the cosmos and not get that single thing your heart desire. Why? Because it does not want you back. They should have inserted that in the song, even as a footnote. It could have saved me a lot of mosquito-infested nights standing on that goddamn balcony and dreaming.

If your heart is in your dream

No request is too extreme

When you wish upon a star

As dreamers do.

That is a lot of bull. Some wishes are too extreme, and some dreams never come true. And this is why this song is a nasty thing to teach kids, because it teaches them hope. And when you hope, you leave yourself exposed. You're fair game. Hope can be the most cruel thing.

Someone close to me recently had her heart broken. One day, I saw her lighting purple candles, spreading salt in a certain pattern, performing rituals and reciting love spells, all intent on bringing back the lost love. I suppose extreme requests require extreme measures. But she never got him back. And it was a good thing, because I could have told her that bringing back a lost love is like resurrecting the dead: you may be able to bring them back (really?), but they won't be the same person anymore. The zombie movies? They don't lie. They come back cold, uncommunicative, and parasitic. As Haruki Murakami puts it: "What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.” Ergo, no wishing on a supernova could bring it back.

So when you find yourself alone on a balcony, on a starry, starry night, don't go singing When You Wish Upon A Star. I would instead recommend Wicked's I'm Not That Girl.  

Don't dream too far

Don't lose sight of who you are

Don't remember that rush of joy...

Don't wish, don't start

Wishing only wounds the heart.

Don't.

_____________________________________________________

"When you wish upon a star, it continues converting hydrogen into helium and ignores you."
-Warren Holstein

Cravings Breakfast Buffet

What I don't like about going for an early run with Vince is that we end up "rewarding" ourselves with calories upon calories of greasy breakfast. So on the morning of June 7, I told him I am on a strict diet and that he can only run with me on one condition: we will only have salad after. So we headed for Cravings Tomas Morato because we have always enjoyed their unlimited salad bars. 

I fell in love with the look of the place. I almost expected to be served with tea and scones on delicate chinaware. 

I assumed this stool is for my bag, because there's one under every table.

And then they dropped the bomb: Their salad bar would only be available around lunchtime. For the meantime, we can order breakfast meals, and it's buffet!

I shot Vince dagger looks for bringing me here and sabotaging my diet again. But it was too late to look for another restaurant because I've taken a dozen pictures already, and the Cravings lady was just so nice, and my bag and I were already comfortably seated.

So I let myself be led to the breakfast spread. 

Vince started with cornflakes. I wanted to have the salad first but could not resist the beef mami. 

For the main course, we were to tell our waiter what we wanted. Over and over (yey!).  Our choices were longganisa, corned beef, beef tapa, boneless bangus. 

Salad, which we came for. And Chicken Tocino, my personal favorite. 

And then it was chaos (it's a ladder, not a pit!). So as we advanced on the ladder, we asked for the bangus, the beef tapa (which I could not chew, although it was really flavorful), the longanisa (tasted like crumpled, wet newspaper, sorry), and corned beef. I still like the chicken tocino best. I requested for scrambled eggs, and they were the fluffiest I've tasted. Vince asked for a poached egg and was given a hard-boiled one. He could not make the waiter understand what poached is. 

But what I consumed most were these warm toasted bread. I think I had about eight bread rolls. Blame it on the herbed butter, which is heavenly. 

And despite all that shameless display of gluttony, Vince and I still found ourselves staring longingly at their display of cakes. We could not decide what to get, mainly because we wanted to taste everything. The kind Cravings lady solved our dilemma and sent us this yummy cherry walnut cheesecake, for free!