The sun and the clouds

THE SUN PEEKS THROUGH the sky curtain of gray fluffy cotton as the clouds persist to repress it. Impossible. It’s a view of a struggle I see each morning. In my seat. Through the window. At my new office. And today is my second Monday here.

They say I suffered from a so-called separation anxiety during my first week of being disconnected from my previous company. Specifically on my first two days. On my second day, I almost got myself into trouble, thanks to my impulsive stupidity or stupid impulsiveness. Whichever is right and more appropriate. Feeling empty and guilty of some nature, as though I have left a mission, an unfulfilled purpose. And an agreement left unspoken. Maybe I should earnestly thank God for the odds have always been in my favor. I was saved from the penalty that my think-about-others-before-yourself-first attitude could have caused me. I’m okay now. I’m right where I want to be. At least that’s what I feel. On my second week. And in the years to come. I’m right where I want to be.

22nd of July. Today should have been my payday. Will my last cutoff salary still be credited to my old cash card? I better check. Today is also the State of the Nation Address (SONA) of the President of the Republic of this Island Nation.

They say our dear president, in the past SONAs he had, only reviewed the mistakes the previous administration had done and highlighted how he corrected them. But I don’t think so, honestly. Because I don’t know. The only thing I could conjure up is that during his first media appearances, if memory serves me, he had portrayed the role of a newly elected President who blames the previous administration, chasing them to repent for their sins. That was long time ago. I hope he stops if he’s still doing it now. He’s good, I guess, though my late father had never thought so.

Can I credit him the increasing number of job opportunities in the Philippines? The outsourcing of knowledge and business processes that have boomed. And better, even better, are the shared services of large conglomerates and global corporations that have invested in the economy of the country. And believed in the hardworking people. You get my point? Because I don’t. I should have put a question mark in my statements here—maybe almost all my statements here—because I’m talking a language that’s rubbish to me. A topic that’s alien. Economy. It’s not my thing. I do not belong to the community of economists. Not certain if I’ll qualify. I am just a simple young professional who writes and edits, you know. Speaking from the standpoint of one. Who doesn’t have to struggle every day for running out of cash. Who can get what he wants. Buy what he needs. Dream about his bigger dreams. Who can only pray that somehow the President can also offer opportunities for the percentage of the mass that belongs to a different classification. Workers fit for other jobs. Other passion. Those who struggle each single day for a living.

For myself. For now. I am grateful to… whom? The President? Or maybe it’s the odds? Or maybe it’s God. That one doesn’t need a question mark. The sun is almost well up.