Sad day at the office yesterday as one of our colleagues, Ms. Den, officially said good-bye to us (she resigned). More than a co-worker, she was our friend, and it just stinks knowing that she’ll no longer be around anymore.
Personally, I was real sad because Ms. Den was one of the few people I really trusted at the office. In a way, I honestly believe that we had become good friends (on my part, at least, that’s what I think). Though I concede that I was never one of her closest friends, I’ll go on record to say that I consider her one of my close friends.
One of my fondest memories at work actually involved Ms. Den. It was way back last year when I was just getting my feet wet at work. I remember having a world of my own, doing nothing but work, work, and work. Then, Ms. Den came up to me one day and initiated the very first non-business-related conversation I had at the office Our first topic was my love life, which was somewhere between bleak and lifeless back then. She gave some advice, one of which I distinctly remember: “Kung ganon siya, iwan mo na lang siya.”
On the surface, it was just a casual, light-hearted conversation, but to me, it was a turning point in my life at Diwa. Without her knowing, that simple conversation went a long ways inasmuch as easing my transition as a member of the staff. Somehow, having that casual conversation with Ms. Den assured me that, yes, everything would be okay for me at work. That, plus the snippets of advice and pointers she gave me were invaluable in making me feel real good and comfortable at work.
Yeah, things have gone well, indeed, except for the customary bumps and grinds along the way. Someway, somehow, I believe I owe someof it to Ms. Den. That’s why I felt real sad yesterday(nobody knew, of course, because the only emotion I've shown at the office is that of joy) . Besides, I never got to thank her personally for what she’s done for me and what she’s meant to me (she actually listened to my heartbreaks and took time to read my blog).
While she may never get to read this blog again, I’d like her to know that I am thankful for having her both as a colleague and as a friend. Thanks, Ms. Den! I wish you and your family all the best.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
JUST A THOUGHT
Yesterday, my mom asked me a somewhat offbeat question: “Would you speak up if someone says bad things about you or would you rather keep silent?”
I couldn’t respond. I was like, “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the situation.”
After a long pause, I was like, “If it was me, I’d just rather shut my mouth.”
Yeah, I’d rather shut my mouth and keep silent rather than respond to people saying shit about me. No way would I glorify a slight, an insult, or a slur by responding to it. I’ve been doing it all my life. Somehow, I have this unique ability to control that urge to respond to those who badmouth me. While people may misconstrue my silence as an admission of guilt, fault, or weakness, I look at it as an act of maturity, a sign of poise, a mark of confidence, a showcase of self-assurance. More importantly, I see it both as an opportunity to prove people wrong and a chance to improve myself as a person.
While a lot of the things that people tell me are pure BS, some are actually legit criticisms. Yes, I shut my mouth, but it doesn’t mean I don’t listen and assess the things being said to and about me. Sometimes, I use the badmouthing I get as a means to know myself more, and to make myself a better person in the process. But don’t get me wrong––a lot of times, people just say a lot of fucked up things about me that don’t make sense. When they do, I just take their BS in stride. Besides, no one knows me better than I do.
One other thing: People will eventually get tired running their mouths, and when they do, they’ll be the first to shut their damn mouths. If I respond to what they say, I just give them more ammunition to continue talking.
Oh, and didn’t they say that “Silent water runs deep”? So yeah, I guess I’d rather keep silent.
I couldn’t respond. I was like, “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the situation.”
After a long pause, I was like, “If it was me, I’d just rather shut my mouth.”
Yeah, I’d rather shut my mouth and keep silent rather than respond to people saying shit about me. No way would I glorify a slight, an insult, or a slur by responding to it. I’ve been doing it all my life. Somehow, I have this unique ability to control that urge to respond to those who badmouth me. While people may misconstrue my silence as an admission of guilt, fault, or weakness, I look at it as an act of maturity, a sign of poise, a mark of confidence, a showcase of self-assurance. More importantly, I see it both as an opportunity to prove people wrong and a chance to improve myself as a person.
While a lot of the things that people tell me are pure BS, some are actually legit criticisms. Yes, I shut my mouth, but it doesn’t mean I don’t listen and assess the things being said to and about me. Sometimes, I use the badmouthing I get as a means to know myself more, and to make myself a better person in the process. But don’t get me wrong––a lot of times, people just say a lot of fucked up things about me that don’t make sense. When they do, I just take their BS in stride. Besides, no one knows me better than I do.
One other thing: People will eventually get tired running their mouths, and when they do, they’ll be the first to shut their damn mouths. If I respond to what they say, I just give them more ammunition to continue talking.
Oh, and didn’t they say that “Silent water runs deep”? So yeah, I guess I’d rather keep silent.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
MISSING SOMETHING
I miss college. Yeah, I miss it––a lot.
I miss the on-the-spot, five-minute reviews before quizzes and exams.
I miss those long, zoned-out nights of thinking then typing to finish term papers, essays, and reports due the very next day.
I miss making group projects––known essentially as the perfect excuse to have those overnight hang-out sessions with friends, err, group mates.
I miss tripping with professors, sharing light moments with them and occasionally pestering them with foolish, offbeat, and unusual questions.
I miss the sweat-inducing, palm-shaking, mind-numbing, joint-cracking tests, presentations, reports, and graded recitations.
I miss learning (yeah, right!).
Most of all, I miss my classmates––my friends.
Just some of the fun times we had in college...
I miss the straight-from-the-heart stories of love, joy, heartbreak, grief, frustration, and confusion that we share with each other.
I miss our casual, carefree conversations about anything and everything: sports, relationships, sex, sexuality, religion, law, politics, food, film, music, piracy, clothes, literature, and anything else we could think of.
I miss the senseless, corny jokes we share and the laughter they bring.
I miss the impromptu photo shoots in the classroom, at the hallways, and anywhere else with space and light.
I miss our occasional visits to SM Manila, Robinson’s Manila, or SM San Lazaro during long breaks or right after dismissal.
I miss eating lunch, merienda, or even dinner with them because good food is best shared with great company.
I miss those frequent sleep-overs and those occasional barkada parties when food, booze, and stories are shared; crushes and secrets are revealed; and friendships are strengthened.
I miss my friends. I miss those times. I miss those moments.
Yeah, I do miss college.
Special people that made my college life worth missing...
I miss the on-the-spot, five-minute reviews before quizzes and exams.
I miss those long, zoned-out nights of thinking then typing to finish term papers, essays, and reports due the very next day.
I miss making group projects––known essentially as the perfect excuse to have those overnight hang-out sessions with friends, err, group mates.
I miss tripping with professors, sharing light moments with them and occasionally pestering them with foolish, offbeat, and unusual questions.
I miss the sweat-inducing, palm-shaking, mind-numbing, joint-cracking tests, presentations, reports, and graded recitations.
I miss learning (yeah, right!).
Most of all, I miss my classmates––my friends.
Just some of the fun times we had in college...
I miss the straight-from-the-heart stories of love, joy, heartbreak, grief, frustration, and confusion that we share with each other.
I miss our casual, carefree conversations about anything and everything: sports, relationships, sex, sexuality, religion, law, politics, food, film, music, piracy, clothes, literature, and anything else we could think of.
I miss the senseless, corny jokes we share and the laughter they bring.
I miss the impromptu photo shoots in the classroom, at the hallways, and anywhere else with space and light.
I miss our occasional visits to SM Manila, Robinson’s Manila, or SM San Lazaro during long breaks or right after dismissal.
I miss eating lunch, merienda, or even dinner with them because good food is best shared with great company.
I miss those frequent sleep-overs and those occasional barkada parties when food, booze, and stories are shared; crushes and secrets are revealed; and friendships are strengthened.
I miss my friends. I miss those times. I miss those moments.
Yeah, I do miss college.
Special people that made my college life worth missing...
Sunday, November 4, 2007
AT THE CROSSROADS
I think I’m already at the crossroads of my young, professional life.
I realized that I’d have to make major choices regarding my career more sooner than later as I, for the first time, took an earnest, nit-picking look at my work experience at Diwa. Sure, the pay is reasonably good, especially for a single, happy-go-lucky guy like me. The people I work with are great, although I do get to meet office assholes every once in a while. We have a first-class office with unlimited resources, and my boss is like the best, most patient, and most easygoing boss in the world. Oh, Greenbelt and Glorietta are like a few steps away, too.
However, I do get ticked off by some of the irrational demands of the management, particularly when it comes to deadlines. Publish 89 books in one year––that about sums it up. Just for the fun of it, I’ll throw out one more inane, senseless demand made by the powers-that-be at work: From now on, every textbook we publish should only have 288 pages. With six pages allotted for the copyright page, preface, and table of contents and another four pages for the appendix, that leaves us with roughly 278 pages of space. Uhm, any ideas on how I can condense History, Chemistry, Biology, and Physics in 278 pages?
Diwa is one of the leading publishers of academic textbooks and magazines in the country...seriously, it really is!
Overall, working with Diwa has been a pretty good experience. Still, a part of me remains uncertain whether I’ll stay here or explore the job market. It’s not that I’m unhappy or unsatisfied with my present job. It’s just that after over a year of working for Diwa, I’ve now began thinking more and more about what I really want in my career. And frankly, editing academic books is not exactly what I want to do for a long time. There’s nothing bad or shameful with what I do now (it’s an honor, actually, to be doing something good for the country’s rotten educational system), but I feel I can do so much more. Call me proud, conceited, cocky, and arrogant, but I just know that with my skill set and talent, I can do a heck of a lot more than just edit books. Bragging and euphemisms aside, I just don’t feel a sense of fulfillment anymore with my job.
Last February, I passed up on the chance to write for the Philippine Star. A week later, I declined an offer to work at Megaworld. Looking back, I feel as though I passed up on two possible career moves. Now, I constantly ask myself, “Will I ever get such opportunities again?” I shunned those opportunities because I preferred the stability of having a stable, good-paying job. In retrospect, I might as well have turned down the very opportunities that would afford me the fulfillment I now want.
Yeah, I am at the crossroads right now. Problem is, I still don’t know which road to choose.
I realized that I’d have to make major choices regarding my career more sooner than later as I, for the first time, took an earnest, nit-picking look at my work experience at Diwa. Sure, the pay is reasonably good, especially for a single, happy-go-lucky guy like me. The people I work with are great, although I do get to meet office assholes every once in a while. We have a first-class office with unlimited resources, and my boss is like the best, most patient, and most easygoing boss in the world. Oh, Greenbelt and Glorietta are like a few steps away, too.
However, I do get ticked off by some of the irrational demands of the management, particularly when it comes to deadlines. Publish 89 books in one year––that about sums it up. Just for the fun of it, I’ll throw out one more inane, senseless demand made by the powers-that-be at work: From now on, every textbook we publish should only have 288 pages. With six pages allotted for the copyright page, preface, and table of contents and another four pages for the appendix, that leaves us with roughly 278 pages of space. Uhm, any ideas on how I can condense History, Chemistry, Biology, and Physics in 278 pages?
Diwa is one of the leading publishers of academic textbooks and magazines in the country...seriously, it really is!
Overall, working with Diwa has been a pretty good experience. Still, a part of me remains uncertain whether I’ll stay here or explore the job market. It’s not that I’m unhappy or unsatisfied with my present job. It’s just that after over a year of working for Diwa, I’ve now began thinking more and more about what I really want in my career. And frankly, editing academic books is not exactly what I want to do for a long time. There’s nothing bad or shameful with what I do now (it’s an honor, actually, to be doing something good for the country’s rotten educational system), but I feel I can do so much more. Call me proud, conceited, cocky, and arrogant, but I just know that with my skill set and talent, I can do a heck of a lot more than just edit books. Bragging and euphemisms aside, I just don’t feel a sense of fulfillment anymore with my job.
Last February, I passed up on the chance to write for the Philippine Star. A week later, I declined an offer to work at Megaworld. Looking back, I feel as though I passed up on two possible career moves. Now, I constantly ask myself, “Will I ever get such opportunities again?” I shunned those opportunities because I preferred the stability of having a stable, good-paying job. In retrospect, I might as well have turned down the very opportunities that would afford me the fulfillment I now want.
Yeah, I am at the crossroads right now. Problem is, I still don’t know which road to choose.
