Is this a cure... or is this a disease?*

*(title borne out of listening to audioslave for the who-knows-what time today)

So yeah, I'm typing away at the 'puter, writing this. It's 3:50pm and I should be working on cash flow and sales analyses. I guess I could pass this essay off as work. I mean, I am at a computer, writing.

But then again, who am I kidding?

Sometimes, being your own boss isn't necessarily a good thing. Especially if you tend to condone your employees' laziness.

The data that needs consolidating has been rudely abandoned at the other desk. Somehow, literally turning your back on work seems to make procrastination easier than it already is.

It's funny how the energy it takes to bring yourself to become industrious and conscientious is inversely proportional to the energy it takes to be a bum.

For some reason I am reminded of one of those things taught in physics class, particularly the Third Law of Thermodynamics which states:

"As a system approaches absolute zero of temperature all processes cease and the entropy of the system approaches a minimum value."


In other words, given enough time, all things turn to crap.

Somehow, this applies even to office work.

So how's this for applied science:


"As the boss approaches absolute intolerance for procrastinated work, all monetary compensation will cease and employment approaches minimum value."


Sigh....

Ha Ha haaaaaaaaa - pkumph.

I felt like a Hobbit today.

So I had second breakfast.

But that's not the real point of this entry.

Was at my usual haunt nursing my second styrofoam cup of coffee. By that time, a lot of people were already having healthy breakfasts of fried chicken and burgers.

Since the place was fairly packed, it wasn't unusual for newcomers to ask to share tables with those already there. My table was no exception.

Approaching my table was this lady. Let's call her Ms. PopEars (you'll know why....)

We smiled politely at each other (a perfunctory gesture among strangers compelled to share common spaces, e.g. cramped elevators, crowded lines, and lacking fastfood tables).

Shortly after that, we proceeded to mind each other's business. That is, until I heard Ms. PopEars go...

"Ha... Ha... haaaaaaaaa - hpkumph"

After 5 seconds….

“Ha…. hpkumph"

I couldn’t help but steal a glance. Somehow, part of me truly, madly, deeply, (desperately!!!!) wanted to tell her…

“FOR THE LOVE OF YOUR EARDRUMS…. STOP THAT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING TO YOUR EARS?!?!?!”

But of course, I didn’t say anything.

People would think I was being rude.
It would’ve been helpful advice… but who asked for it?

Certainly not Ms. PopEars.

And so, that being said, I finished what was left of my already cold coffee, proceeded to the trash bin and disposed of the Styrofoam cup and made my way to the exit.

As I stepped outside, I heard again the sound of a doomed cochlea….

“Ha… Ha… Ha…. hpkumph"

Cobbler's Catastrophe at Commercial Complex

About two days ago, I decided to check out the new "old" mall along EDSA, North of the Metro. As it were, in compliance with the monsoon season, there was no shortage of rain.

Common sense would probably dictate that one should stay indoors. Among the reasons for doing so is that your feet stay dry and santized vis-a-vis dipping your feet in flood water with generous servings of feces, saliva, micturate, and who-knows-else-what....

But of course, this is me talking....

And thus, armed with an umbrella, I forged on.
Lolo has a word for people like me who choose to go out inspite the heavy rains: earthworms*.

A short, skip and a hop over questionable flowing liquids later, I found myself at the mall - the structure that is almost akin to sanctuary for urbanians such as myself.

All fared well until I felt something different at my feet. I looked down and saw that my left shoe was dangerously close to what would pass for a nervous breakdown.

Had I been in any other place, the situation would have been very difficult.

But lucky me, I was in a mall - and a mall named after shoes, at that!

There were 2 options:

Option 1: Take my poor pair of shoes to the repair shop and wait for it to get fixed while I go barefooted for a good hour or so.

Option 2: Find an "emergency" pair of footwear that I can wear while the tatterred shoes are in repair.

I could have chosen option 1. I mean, people have gone out in public with so much less covering than just a missing pair of shoes. So why was I hesitant to go barefooted? Even now, I still don't know.

To make an already long story longer, I did go for option 2.

The consequence of which was that I had to bear the Curse of the Bargain Hunter, that is, to endure the pain and discomfort of searching the entire mall in a collapsing pair of shoes in search for the best style shoe at the best price.

Not only did I scour every shoe store in the mall, but I also did the round not once, but three, yes THREE, times.

Believe you me, by the second round, all logic had just jumped out the window.

Two agonizing hours later, I made a decision and made one sales girl happy. I guess I looked sorrier than I thought because she made no effort to place the new pair in the box and actually took the old pair and packed them instead. (For that, she meritted a tip.)

Soon after that, a trip to the shoe repair shop. An hour of rehab after, the old pair looked okay. At least it didn't look as if it was begging to be euthanized.

I went home breaking in my new pair. Quite satisfied with my little solo adventure. Sure, my credit card bill's gonna look like heck next month, but hey.... as the saying goes, sometimes girls just wanna have fun.

(* that's because these creatures tend to go out of their earthy homes when it rains. People say it's because the caverns get flooded. But I think it's because they enjoy wet t-shirt contests.)

Sunshine

Don't know what came over me, but after seeing the sun after so many rainy days, i felt compelled to walk the entire stretch of Kamuning Road (and some parts of Kamias) on my way to the office.

From McDonald's on Tomas Morato to my office, it took me 25 minutes.

In heels.

Now that's something....

Riding on a Semblance of Profundity.... Or Not....

Our generation seems to be defined by marketing.

Whereas the 18th century was defined by discoveries; and industrialization and manufacturing during the 19th; the latter half of the 20th and present century has and is marked by a man’s ability to convince, or rather compel, another to part with his money for things he may not necessarily need.

Take, for example, how we describe our day-to-day activities:

You FedEx a package.

Documents are Xeroxed.

To look up something on the Net, you Google.

Filipinos Kodak when taking pictures.

We even use brand names to describe what we eat: you didn’t have hamburgers and fries, you had McDonald’s.

Am I saying there’s something wrong with that?

You tell me.

Can you imagine the society of this day and age to be what it is without gigantic billboards, TV shows, radio commercials, websites, corporate-sponsored parties and events, bus and train poster ads, mailed-in brochures, shopping malls complexes, text message promos, 3-day sales, magazine centerfolds, showrooms, product samples, Friendster, Starbucks?

A knee-jerk reaction may most likely respond in the negative but that reply merits reconsideration. Yes, it is possible for us to have none of the abovementioned things. But what are we left with then?

Could we truly be what we are today without those things?

How would it feel to have none of the trappings of an age defined by a systematic approach to get people to buy and consume, but never truly being satisfied?

Personally, given the absence of such things, it’d feel naked. By “it” I’d be referring to how we live and have come to know daily life and define what is “normal”.

That “it” in & of itself is not necessarily a bad thing since this is what defines our time. However, should it ever come to the point of being stripped, what would remain? And more importantly, could “it” still function without the withdrawal symptoms?

No one can truly say for sure and perhaps that is a good thing. For at least there is the possibility of the answer that although naked, things can and will go on.