February 20, 2010 § Leave a comment
This is a repost from an earlier attempt at blog writing. Two years down the line and things are so sadly the same 😦
Every year I get the blues a few months before my birthday. It starts with a random thought, like how I used to hit the streets every Saturday, looking for ukay originals or thumbing through rows of pirated CDs, hoping for a rare find. Then I start to think of all the things I miss from my past incarnation as a typical under achieving 25 year old in Cebu. And then I get to thinking about all the things I had hoped to achieve by the time I turned 25 (nada). And before I know it, it’s turned into a full blown introspective of how, if someone was crazy (or bored) enough to make a movie of my life it would have to start with a manorexic Japanese in huge spectacles, baggy pants, suspenders and no shirt warning kids around the world to “Don’t try this at home.”
Let’s not even touch the subject of heartache. I’ve come to understand the only way a man could attract me is if he’s either emotionally or geographically unavailable. Somehow, when it comes to love and romance, my story so far has been more Buffy the Vampire Slayer than Mills & Boons.
So let’s just stick to the life changing stuff . . . the adult stuff. As Meredith has so eloquently put it, “We’re grown ups. When did that happen?” Here I was, the girl who didn’t have to make much of an effort to get anything, suddenly realizing that there is a reason people who know better tell us (mere mortals) to “Just say no.” Looking back, I now see how jumping into situations half assed is not the best way to go about things. Here I am, about to turn 31 and I can honestly say my life is a mess.
Career? DJ, check. Teacher, check. Test maker, check. Ad Exec, check. Copywriter, check. Sadly, I can’t add World Savior to the list, I was too busy treading water to get to it.
Finances? My head’s above water and there are no creditors banging on my door (yet) but retiring to a life of leisure at the ripe old age of 60 is still a dream at this point.
Don’t even think about asking me whether I’m happy or not, or whether I regret anything or not. I don’t even know what happiness or regret means. If someone offered me a do over right about now, I’d have to sit down and think really hard for about a year or so just to ponder which part of my life exactly I’d do over.
Oh, okay, maybe it also has something to do with having to make another portfolio and setting off once again for the search for the perfect job. It seems that each time is even harder than the last and that every job just goes into the ever growing list of Things I Will Never Be Caught Dead Doing. And each time, it takes longer for me to answer the greatest question of all time: What’s the point?
Yeah, I’m beginning to see that this search is about as futile as looking for Big Foot, or Elvis. I’ll be offered a higher salary if I could just handle a misogynist boss. Or maybe I’d be offered executive housing and a company car if only I’d work 24/7. I’d have a great salary, major perks, a wonderful boss but have Britney Spears as a subordinate. I don’t know. Something is sure to screw the equation.
I guess it just makes no sense to think that the perfect job is waiting for me when more and more I’m getting this feeling that there’s a spot on a beach beside a gorgeous man (who amazingly looks a lot like Sawyer) with a great smile out there somewhere with my name on it.