awful morning

three hours of sleep and i woke up even before the sun peeked through the horizon. justin timberlake was singing in my ear. said he's love stoned.

ouch, i slept with my earphones again.

i got up and danced. i love JT. now if only i'll wake up next to him one morning.

good morning, good morning, good morning.

good morning God. i tell the big dude whom i've been talking to a lot lately when i get bored talking to myself. i looked at myself in the mirror and asked God if i really need eight hours of sleep. because really, i think i already have a sleeping disorder.

well, i don't have just a sleeping disorder.

i am disorder.

june 26. four more days and i am out of this office. perhaps, my valedictory blog entry at the end of this month should have the title, "ambat out."

so far, i've turned down two job offers. i am waiting confirmation, but with all the CA controversy going around, looks like i have to wait. i will be appointed the new revenue chief you know.

waiting.

a little bit more.

a little longer.

****

i decided to take a shower first before i eat my apple cinnamon oatmeal. (lovely breakfast really).

pussycat dolls was singing "buttons" when i got back to my room. for a second i wondered if my ipod had loud speaker.

moron, i realized, i changed my ringtone to :buttons." (i want the umba-rella-ella-ella ringtone but no one had that last weekend. )

cue was calling. i wanted to answer my cell really. but i have to put on my contacts first.

by the time i answered, it was already the 4th call.

"why are you not answering your phone?"

annoying.

annoying. annoying. annoying.

gaad. if i were to list down the top five annoying questions that people subsitiute for "hello/hi" when they call me, it would be these:

1. Where are you? (unless you're my boss or are taking me shopping to zara or mango, please don't greet me with "where are you?" or worse, "wer u?" tsong, ur talking na 2 me, not SMSing, so pls, speak in normal, conversational english. and no, that's not cute.)

2. Why are you not answering your phone? - (last time i checked, i was the one who bought this pink sliver. last time i checked, i was the one who loaded moolah to get me communicating. last time i checked, i am not police, doctor, priest who could save you from whatever life threatening situation you are in. so please, if i don't get to answer you on the 1st call, i have a valid reason. it could be that i don't want to talk to you and that is very valid. )

3. Who are you with? - (i hate this question because most likely, my answer will be "no one." the question makes me so vulnerable. i'm with no one. bo-hoo...)

4. Are you wearing white (or whatever color/ clothes) and looking thru (clothes/ books/ shoes) at this _______ (name of shop) right now? -- this scares the hell out of me. seriously, please. if you think it's me, and you think we're okay, (you know, like we didn't fight) don't bother calling. just come up to me and say hi. (i carry a can of mace with me all the time though, so don't make me gulat.)

5. Can we talk? -- (unless you're my mom, dad or boss or someone i work with in the wicked and wonderful arena of 3rd world politics, this question always makes me want to run as fast as my havaianas can carry me. on the phone, the question always catches me off guard. the fact that i didn't reject your call means, yes, we can talk.)

annoyed, i answered, "the last time i checked, my last name ain't chinese. i'm not your girlfriend. what do you want?"

oh gaad....

if there was anyone among my friends who can change my ammo when in a fight, it's cue.

oh, that screaming match at the parking lot. oh, that confrontation at the lobby. oh, the banging of car doors. oh, the dagger looks. oh, the cold war.

i'm still trying to figure out why/ how we are able to bring out the worst in each other.

my only theory is, we are mirror images of each other. and we do not like what we see. in the same breath, because we are very much alike---temper, disposition, ambition---we are drawn to each other.

our longest cold war went on for a week. and after that, we were back to our famous walang kakwenta kwentang usapan which goes like this -- "dude...pare...you know... i'm like...blah blah...."

***

by the time the conversation ended, i was already toxic.

***

toxic. yeah. so toxic that when i passed by this pulubi at philcoa on my way to work, she suddenly collapsed on the pavement, had seizure and started throwing up.

i wanted to stop, but i was in a hurry.

by the time i got to my soon to be ex-office, guilt was kicking in. the pulubi could have died--could be dead.

the call took 10 minutes of my precious morning time. i was already late for work.

i will be out of work so i really should've stopped and helped. but i was bitching. i was satan. i was toxic.

still toxic. oh i hope this is not separation anxiety.

so it could all just be cue's fault.