I'm Feeling Clever Over the Office Blues

We're as perky as cheerleaders in our (sometimes feigned) excitement as we welcome employees in the New Hire Orientation! A few days before hitting the production floor, managers and supervisors describe the work measurement and targets. The leadership team also inspires the newbies about the story of how they grew and worked their way up the ladder, where they've been assigned, their shining moments, and how much they love the people in the company.

My spill is something like:

"I started in the industry as an agent back in 2001. I remember the first call I took and I probably felt just like you: butterflies in my stomach, jittery and urging myself to come out of my nutshell. To be honest, I was scared out of my wits when I took that first call. In the ten years between my first call and where we are now the landscape of this industry has changed. There's better training, a lot more industry-experience, stronger leadership, knowledge and process orientation, and as we are doing now - everyone is here to support you when you take that first call. You are better equipped and should not at all be afraid."

I go on about being deployed to several sites including Bacoor, Cebu & Kuala Lumpur and flaunting (quite truthfully) the merits and achievements of the Quality Staff. And yes, how this is a great company that values hard work and nurtures a culture of meritocracy with solid social responsibility, global diversity and publicly-traded stocks on its way up.

Once in a while, the repressed pseudo-intellectual-smarty-pants side of me shakes me up and urges me to tweak the spill a little bit and go with something clever-sounding:

"Have you ever read George Orwell's Animal Farm? You're in the Animal Farm. Welcome! And nah, given the genius qualification of our hires you probably haven't read that yet and if you did, you'll jump out of here as soon as you start realizing you're treated like one of the sheep. By the way, my story is - I used to be something like Boxer the horse, and a few years later I became something of Squealer the pig. And look, I'm standing on two feet."

On the Rewards of Daddying & Being a Husband

Yours is Mine.

Sincerest Semi Business Related Correspondences

Two Specialists Tie the Knot

First off, Congratulations to you and Best Wishes to C,! I am genuinely happy to hear that you too are tying the knot and having a family of your own now. I feel that that the world is sometimes short of goodness, and I know that you two will help spread it.

Thank you for the earnestness of your words, A. When I met you, I remember how my sense of righteousness and integrity deepened. You've parted us with a lot of wisdom that we still uphold until now.

I wanted to tell you too that maybe there is one area I didn't highlight when I told you about "packaging." The only thing that makes it work, aside from the given strategic approach, is honest-to-goodness sincerity. It is the inherent belief that people can be compelled to do what is right.

Are you already thinking of having a baby? With the high level of organization from both you, I'm sure you have it all planned out. Being a father has allowed me to rediscover myself in different ways. For instance, I learned to ask the universe to keep me at my humblest, because it is probably at my humblest that I am a my wisest. Needless to say, having a child is a joy that amounts to winning the lottery, or probably even more.

Please stay in touch. I hope there are more people like you and C. to influence this world and let some more goodness seep in.

A Specialist's Goodbye Later

We’ve achieved a lot of good numbers and created a lot of value through the years but you’ve probably gained the wisdom we left unsaid after all our tracking, analysis, and quantifying. This wisdom is: there’s more than what you can count. The sense of fulfillment you have given us is genuine and immeasurable. If I have earned your trust and respect, then I am truly accomplished.

Too bad your last message did not have any grammatical errors. I could have enjoyed a good catch. Nice touch on your other goodbye later. I’ll definitely be in touch. Let’s exchange notes and enjoy some good laughs. I’m a little more personal on this one.

Selling Cancer Bracelets

There's genuine empathy and a shared sense of strength and hope in efforts such as these. It’s a concrete way to conquer the absurdity brought upon us, as we remember the brevity of life. You may have felt the same with a friend or a loved one or if ever you've been around someone with cancer. When Science meets our fervent hoping, it just makes perfect sense to ask for more help, to not be alone and silent, and to demand better cures and treatments.

I've often tried to avoid dwelling on clichés. But since I’m indulging myself, I think this is a good chance to be part of something greater than us.

So let me know if you’re interested in getting a bracelet.

The Inception of Jairus

The mercury plunges and it's a natural tendency to let the temperature control so many things. The flower farmers in Benguet had to harvest early bacause the flowers started frosting. South of the country and and in other countries, there's been a long spell of rain and resulting flood. There is no snow in this sad republic but I see so much white. So much white to see too little clarity. So much cold bringing chaffed lips that hushed me and left my wits to a drought.

I'm always sick at the start of the year, which makes January both a beginning and a relapse. Perhaps it's leaning more towards a relapse because it sounds like I'm going back to my whining ways. I had several cases of existential blues in the office, and I've lost track of a sensible diet. Over drinks last weekend, I confided office woes to my wife. I've also gained around ten pounds that I've previously lost.

I'm reading Roth's Sabbath's Theater. I've been reading for nearly two months now and both that fact and what I read in the book sinks me further into sadness.

I scheduled a run this afternoon. After stretching, lacing up and the warm-up walk to Roxas Boulevard, a drizzle later fully developing into a rain made me abort the 6k-before-work plan. And work, needless to say, is rarely pleasant. The office is another big freezer that makes me feel like a corpse basked in formaldehyde.

And I've been dreaming violently. There must be some kind of Inception taking place. That's also the only decent film we saw in the last quarter. And yes, perhaps that's what's happening
now. Given this tendency to relapse into whining, the agents are re-wiring my consciousness.

After all all that violet dreaming and looking deep into me, the Inception was to have me look at my son's eyes and say: there is so much sunshine. It's from another subconscious item: a Walt Whitman quote.



Remember last Monday? Remember? Upon getting a package notice, you went to the Central Post Office. The tall pillars, high ceilings, the designed tiles, along with a cool breeze and Lawton's pollution made you nostalgic about your childhood. You remember licking stamps to the the letters you sent. And you are getting one now yourself: a handwritten letter. It came with music from a friend in the States who shared the same tastes. The package came with pictures from a strong 10k run followed by pleasant trips out of town.

Remember this morning? Remember? After another tiresome night at work, you were in a coffeeshop. You ordered chicken empanada while waiting for your wife, tweeting and tinkering with an iPhone (what you call your love-at-first-swipe-of-the-finger). Emerald Avenue in Ortigas had so much sunshine peering through thick brown glass pannels. She came and gave you what she called "the second best Meat Trio Sandwich" that she got from a nearby deli. The best of course, being the sandwhiches you make. You had an iced black tea that tasted exactly how you wanted it to taste. Compelled by her kindness, you insisted on getting her a giant peach tea. And on the way home you listened intently about the book she was reading on what babies say and attachment parenting. You both thought lovingly about your son. And shortly after, you were home.

The Inception agents must be saying: be not afraid and open your doors to the elements that made you effervescent with joy.

I'm going to kill myself now and wake up. Let's see what happens.

Month Over Month Twenty Ten Highs

Jan 2010:
With the 11pm cold January evening wind sliced by a jacket, sweater, and our bodies held together tightly, we walked back to the parking lot. Our faces still marked by those 3D spectacles, she was telling me how that kick felt.

Feb 2010:
At 24 weeks and 1 day in your mother’s womb, we saw you kicking and somersaulting through a sonogram. It was a full congenital scan and your body, your eyes, your liver, your heart, lungs were in tact. You are healthy. Early on you’ve already made us happy with the magic of this discovery.

You are the new marvel of this universe. How we marvelled.

Mar 2010:
The precise moment my endorphins begin to gather and kick in began at 5.19 a.m. in Makati Avenue. It’s the countdown to gun start at the 21k coral. The adrenaline of more serious runners forms up and it seeps into you like a movement in a Jungian collective consciousness. An electric jolt surges through my veins and I look up to the SGV building and the Ayala Triangle. I launch the first song, close my eyes for a second, let out a smile, and set myself sailing.

April 2010:
We’ve must’ve had hundreds of these fancy-restaurant lunches and dinners. But with a kid on the way, the last few dates taste more robust in our last-chance savouring. We happily realize that it might be a while before this again.

May 2010:
It’s Saturday, and we are overcome with a liberating feeling that accompanies most Saturday mornings. It’s the beginning of the weekend. I pick up D. in Ortigas and we enjoy cheap but well-prepared tuna or chicken croissants, iced coffee and grape juice. Engaged in conversation, we naturally weed out our work-related worries. We while away all other uncertainties all-too-easily because the imposing presence in a mother’s belly induces the courage to dream a little more.

June 2010:
Very shortly now, a miracle's going to happen.
June 23 at 4:42pm

I., 7.87 lbs strong, arrived shortly before sunset on 23 June, 2010. Hello World.

July 2010:
Aside from soiling washable cloth diapers and disposable diapers, he’s essentially into sucking into his mother’s burst-into-porn-star proportions-milk-manufacturing boobies. His lullabies include music from the Smashing Pumpkins, Eggstone, Whitest Boy Alive, Sigur Ros, Jeff Buckley and yeah those obscure (only because they are not-so-heard-of) bands that comprise what they call Post-Rock Instrumental. He also gets a usual blast of Chopin, some classical and his mother’s wonderful singing.

August 2010:
So here we are, in the fifty-fifth day of watching you grow with an out-of-this-world bliss that's countless and unquantifiable. Your mother, quite literally, has never left you, breastfeeding you exclusively and giving you the kind of love that's even more beautiful than romance.

September 2010:
With having our I., we have been blessed. We may not have been as blessed with having greener pastures but we certainly feel that with our bundle of joy, that grass is also green on our side. All through life, we'll work on having him inherit the kindness we found in the world, which is really worth more than anything.

October 2010:
And I understood why I should long, even more intensely, to repeat the last 124 days and the twenty-nine years of my life. Because in some parallel universe, I.’s fond smiles are flashing again, I am hushing him again, telling him stories of the lower-class Italian families in the 50s and 60s, or shipwrecked Indian Boys in a lifeboat with a Bengal tiger. I am listening to music with him again. I am watching him sleep with his D. in the morning, or watching him sleep with mama before I leave for work at night, making my woes vanish into thin air. I. is staring wide-eyed into me again, and we peer into each other’s souls.

November 2010:
With having Mighty Mighty, the tides are on tilt to peak at their crest. By now, he’s already turning on his stomach. He’s nearly 7kg strong. I have seen him every day of his life and I see life begin over and over again in him, making me zealously live even more fiercely, repeatedly.

December 2010:
Universe, keep me at my humblest and therefore wisest.

Lord, make me fast and accurate.In my anger and in my restlessness, let me respond quickly and make a calm assessment.

Universe, I am one with you.