Day 21: Monday

I wrote a poetic tribute to my Monday (even if it's already Tuesday)! 

 My cube is bright

Sunshine dances on my shelf

I felt gloomy but The Beatles held my hand

So I did not let The Carpenters build me down

I have a white table

With watercolors and a charging cable

But first, let me finish my coffee

Before it turns artificially cold

From recycled air

And Monday work fare

Day 16: Writing To Live


A lot of people ask me how I balance my full-time job with my blog. I am surprised to get this a lot because many bloggers do this while working. I guess it is the frequency of my posts that makes people wonder how I get things done. I am currently taking a couple of online classes to help me with content and improving my technique. Classes cannot teach discipline though, so it is up to me to develop that. I have learned in a goal-setting course that I have to schedule my plans in order to see them come to fruition. I use my workbook for that class religiously, because if there is one thing that I must believe in, it would be the validity of my goals. Right now, my passion project is my blog. I did not ask help from anyone in IT or the blogger community in setting it up. I bought a domain name and annual subscription for website hosting using my hard-earned money. If there is something that motivates me more than anything, it would be the fact that my savings paid for this blog, so I have to maximize it. I cannot just sit around waiting for inspiration to hit me. I have to hit inspiration until I sit down and write.

I have learned that mindfulness helps in keeping me focused, especially when i am on the lookout for experiences to write about. Rather than just killing time, I make sure to live through each moment. I can turn a simple meal into a blog post or a personal anecdote into a story. I have also learned to write as it happens, and it turns out that I am a pretty efficient one at that.

I have also realized that having a passion project elevates the mundane into an art. Living just for the sake of existing does not equate to a balanced time here on earth. Rather, I prefer to live meaningfully, because if I am not thankful for the experiences I am going through, then life is just a pointless journey to oblivion.

I hope to continue this writing journey to enrich each day that I have. I hope to end each one with a prayer of gratitude and the promise of a new day.


Day 15: Writing Chuva


I am a fan of Chuvaness because I dig her acerbic wit. She is lifestyle blogger with a Japanese street style aesthetic and an obsession with immaculate bathrooms. Reading her blog for years has given me a good grasp of her voice. For today's Writing Room assignment, I was tasked to compose an entry using another blogger's voice. I did not have to think twice and chose Chuvaness as my reference. 

 Chuva Commute

My car broke down today and my driver is on leave. It was a last-minute pandemonium. I had no choice but to take the MRT to my meeting in Quezon City. Those who know me well can attest to the fact that I consider anything north of Megamall to be out of town. Good thing my meeting was set for lunchtime so I had the luxury of skipping the rush hour crowd. 

My optimism was dashed the moment my Uber driver dropped me off at Ortigas station. The sidewalk was so narrowly barricaded that only one person can pass through it at a time. The elevator was not working as well so I had to take a gazillion steps to the top. By the time I reached the ticketing area, I was met by an intense queue. The people looked exhausted and I immediately felt the same way. It was hot and not well-ventilated. This was already 11am, but the crowd is still major. My Margielic ensemble could not handle the heat, the inefficient ticketing system which mixed both Beep card top-ups and single journey purchases, and the telenovela  running on the TV screens. I mean, why? It did not even have subtitles. Is this a reference to the daily drama at the MRT?

By the time I passed through the turnstiles, I did not feel like a worldly, efficient commuter anymore. I felt tired. I walked to the far end of the platform to reach the designated area for women, children, expectant moms, and seniors. I stayed in the women-only area and ignored the people around me who did not seem to understand the system of properly queueing for their turn to ride the train. The platform was hot and humid. Not Chuva-approved. 

The train arrived after an eternity, and it was just timely that the air condition was down. Great. This is summer and Manila. The train moved excruciatingly slow. I prayed the rosary to Trinoma. I asked for patience. And a miracle for Manila.