Archive for May 2012
I am being bullied.
By a rat.
How do I explain this?
Since I came back from my week-long home leave, I found myself being terrorized by a rat as big as a kitten (no exag!) The funny thing was I didn’t realize what was happening until I found my Sunflower crackers pack half-empty when I had a sudden craving and opened my desk drawer. It was actually a ‘clean’ crime. The only indication that the culprit was a rat is that the packaging had teeth and claw marks on it (if you get what I mean).
There were signs – I always find my wall photos scattered on my desk, the picture frames upturned, there were tiny rat poops (at first only few but then it got merciless and started sh*tting everywhere!) and even urine on top of my working desk! I was in denial and thought that maybe a human got curious and moved some of my things.
Then last Monday, I found my office ransacked… again. After cleaning my desktops, the book/magazine racks, the whiteboard, and drawers, I moved on to the pull-out of my bigger desk and the moment I tugged at it, a bunch of tissues fell down with the big rat jumping and running away from the crime scene. That was the loudest shriek I let out in years. It must’ve been really hungry and ate (and stored) the tissue papers instead.
It was gross. Just thinking about how big that rat is gives me goosebumps.
One of my officemates said I should talk to the rat and make peace with it. It feels weird talking to a rat so I just shrugged it off. It must’ve heard or seen my reaction ‘coz it got angry and terrorized me even more the following day.
Rat poops and piss everywhere, photos scattered, a window sill was half-eaten and part of my wall was torn. Maybe it was finding an escape hole and failed . I was really scared opening my drawers, ‘coz I was sure it was still there. And sure enough, the darn thing was munching on my marshmallows in the top drawer of my smaller table.
My rat dialogue ‘advisor’ told me she had an epiphany. She and the rat had an eye contact and she told it to not bother me anymore. She was convinced it wouldn’t but asked the errand boys to board up all possible escape anyway, including a vent that was my only source of the cold, fresh air from outside when the wind blows from the South.
I am worrying and it kills me. I’m afraid it will be there again tomorrow waiting for the next perfect opportunity to scare the bejesus out of me and scream “rats!”
A preview of what I will be ranting about in a little while:
Above is the sorry condition of my right big toe, the left side of which kind’a resembled a skinless chicken longanisa without that bandage. Trust me, it wasn’t an exaggeration. Oh, and the ointment I put to relieve the pain is the mayonnaise that completes the entree. Gross, I know.
So, what’s the story, clumsy me?
Nothing fancy like falling down an empty ditch hole (like what happened to me last October). This time, I just decided to attack the ground on my way home from work. Or, I got curious and tested the force of gravity and it showed me. Showed me big time who’s the boss.
I was wearing this:
While flailing my arms like mad and wearing ten levels of ‘unpaintable’ expression on my face, about a second before I hit the ground, I got flashbacks – not of the vivid memories of my happy life but of the most embarrassing situations I’ve gotten myself into just because I was at the 2nd row, with both feet sticking out when the heavens blessed us earthlings with the gift of ehem… clumsiness.
I would be lying if I say I don’t
always wish I’d float and stay there five inches above the the ground ala-Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible whenever one of my feet betrays me. I was always hopeful someone would yell ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’ to keep me floating. Too much Harry Potter I know. 🙂
Anyhow, that’s the reason why I went to work in my yucky Banana Peel (felt more like wearing the old-school Spartan) and I kept getting ‘the look’ from people it was a bit embarrassing too.
Moral lesson: Don’t wear open-toe, cute sandals with a slippery sole at work in this kind of environment, where concrete and paved walkways are uphill. I think I’d be reuniting with my great ‘ol Chucks very soon.
Yesterday, I had the chance to attend a writing workshop that our company has sponsored. The ‘ABLE Source Workshop’ was actually intended for information officers / public relations and media relations officers to help us understand how the local Baguio community papers run and what they expect from news sources like us.
I was excited to attend the workshop for the simple reason that I would love to have a refresher on news writing, plus I’d get the chance to meet the editors and publishers of the local papers. Despite the small number of attendees, the event was a success as it was all about learning and camaraderie (for some reason, it makes me wanna puke putting those words together). And most importantly, it made me want to write again. Write in a way that I respect my own writing and not just write because I wanted to claim myself as a writer.
Hearing the likes of Frank Cimatu, Malou Guieb, Eli Refuerzo and the others talk about writing made me me miss it a lot. It made me hungry of the forgotten knowledge I acquired back in college as a journalism graduate. Kuya Frank said you gotta train to be a good writer. And by training, it means writing every day – anything under the sun that you can write about – and read read read! Ms. Malou said something about ‘painting pictures with words.’ I believe at one point in my life, I was pretty good at that, even losing myself while stitching my words, but I woke up one day not knowing how to even draw. Lame.
I used to read 3 to 4 books in a month – that was before I got eaten up by work (and Facebook!) So I am seriously considering minimizing my Facebook (and Social Media-ing) time and devote more of it in reading books. I probably have around five still untouched (still have cover in them!) books lying in my bookshelf in Makati and 3 more here in Benguet, which I so eagerly bought with me but turned out to be dust eaters.
I hope I would not eat my words (or blogs) later but I promise to write more frequently in this blog instead of staring at walls when I’m on my break mode (feeling sleepy or hungry or plain bored) while in the office or during my idle, ‘me’ moments.
So before I totally lose that ‘mojo,’ I’ll actually start practicing and this is my beginning.