I have been on a writing hiatus since January 25; the day my employer decided to let go of more than a thousand (I’m assuming here) employees to meet their economizing plans for 2013. Their reasons were vague upon announcement, and it remains so up to this point, but they sugar-coated the blow by offering a handsome severance package to everyone who lost their jobs; myself included.
And although it’s now moot to mull over the fact that it was unprofessional to pull the rug out from underneath all of us; or that it was unfair—unlawful, even—to layoff regularized employees who supposedly were under the protection of their tenure, allow me to say my two cents worth in this whole fiasco:
- It’s not the forced resignation that is lamentable, but the friendships and the budding romances that were cut short that people are grieving over.
- Some employees have been thinking of leaving for a long time now, but not like this. Everyone was thinking more of a one-month notice, to give themselves ample time to say goodbye to a routine they have lived for months, or years.
- While the retrenchment may be a blessing in disguise for some—for the few who were already contemplating other career options—not all people feel that way. Others have endured unpaid overtime hours, sacrificed weekend trips with their families, and emotionally invested in the company and its people, because they expected to be in it for the long haul.
- And lastly, not everyone is as young and vibrant as the guy a few aisles from them. Not everyone has the same number of windows they can open when a door shuts in front of their faces.
Cheesy as it may sound, after being debriefed of our duties, the Marketing Department then proceeded to gathering in groups to drink the pain away.
Content Team @ Shakeys, Robinson’s Forum
Photo: Nicolle Timoteo
SEO Team @ SM Megamall
Photo: Marilou Moreno
Content Team @ Kuwagos, Madison Square Pioneer
Photo: Juabe Inciong
AFF, Design, SEO @ Central Bar, Mandaluyong
Photo: Marc Cometa
To be completely honest, I hated my job since Day 1. The building itself is a white, concrete reminder of my misguided life choices, and my principles I consciously ignored to appease my material and petty-bourgeois greed. But for the past six months, I fell in love with the daily faces smiling back at me every morning; that at some point I just realized that these faces are worth fighting for.
— —
As of late, my online activity is mostly consisted of answering hate mails sent to me through various social media platforms. My public accounts received much attention after posting my near miss/ near hit college love story in Overheard at UP.
Hi, sana mabasa mo ‘to. Alam kong may girlfriend ka na ngayon; kung kayo pa or hindi na, I don’t really want to know. There’s just this one question in my head I can’t push away; I think nasagot ko na siya mag-isa but I still need to hear it from you.
Naaalala mo pa ba ‘ko? It was 2011, and it was peculiarly dry for an afternoon in June. You saw me standing in front of OUR. Nakasakay ka ng Toki, mag-isa. You smiled at me and I smiled back. Bumaba ka ng Toki at nakipag-small talk. Hiningi mo yung number ko, and then you left.
Three days later, you called. Around 12nn yun and I was in Malcolm Hall. Sobrang hina ng signal but I recognized your voice. You asked if you can join me for lunch. I had to meet someone that day and I can’t turn her down, so I said no.
We started texting since then. After several attempts to meet, nagkasundo tayong after your training, mag-dinner sa Mcdo Philcoa kahit kasagsagan ng Bagyong Falcon. Pumayag naman ako agad because I really wanted to see you. Kadiri man aminin, pero konting push na lang mai-inlove na talaga ako.
Sinundo mo ako sa waiting shed nearest PhilPost. Basang-basa ka ng ulan, and your black shirt was sticking to your skin. Ibang level yung pag-blush ko nun, buti na lang hindi mo nakita.
Our conversation was really fun kahit amoy chicken nuggets ang paligid. We left Mcdo at around 2 or 3am, nag-taxi tayo at hinatid mo ako sa apartment. It was a good date, you said it so yourself.
You asked me out a few more times before June ended, I turned you down every single time. I explained repeatedly that it’s not because I didn’t like you, it’s just that I was very busy that month. And that pati July ko hindi na mababakante.
I wasn’t lying. I was writing my thesis and I can’t bear any distractions; however exciting and fun and lovable and cute that distraction was. I asked if you can wait for me until August. You said yes, you said you’ll wait however long it takes.
I was excited for August. I was excited to see you again.
One late afternoon after I met with my thesis adviser, I saw you again. You were wearing the same white shirt you wore when I first saw you. And you were smiling, walking hand-in-hand with another girl. She’s very pretty, I’ll give you that. But..
But you said you’ll wait? You said however long it takes? So.. what happened?
For the record, the post is nothing but a wistful retrospection of my last semester in UP. The intention was simply to share, and to seek out the person in question. The story never presupposed a contrast between males and females when it comes to handling romantic relationships. But apparently, some commenters felt that I was in violation of a dating code I wasn’t aware existed.
Following that, the comments section inevitably gave birth to an unnecessary battle of sexes, with which I was blamed for public comments I had no control over.
Hate mails would not be complete without a lame shot at ad hominem.
An ad hominem is not only argumentatively fallacious, it is—most of the time—also erroneous as a fact.
There is still a downpour of irate comments and questions in my Ask.fm inbox. While the vile-ridden messages can get pretty tiring after sometime, I can’t deny that I am deriving perverse pleasure from all the attention. If I were to make this into an academic endeavor, I would like to intensively dissect the hyperreal personalities behind this phenomenon—how it asserts itself, how it forms judgments and prejudices, and how distanced or proximate the hyperreal is to the real persona.
— —
You,
Your tummy is bulging out of your pants when you sit, and your hairline is receding. The bags under your eyes are getting worse by the day, and I hate it when you don’t shave. You slouch when you walk, you smirk a lot, and you condescend me for being a grammar freak. You also use the “:P” emoticon way too much because you think you’re cute. And sadly, you are cute. I hate it.
I also hate the fact that I don’t get to catch a glimpse of you anymore, and that I have to wait until 11 in the evening when it’s safest to text you. But by then you’re already too sleepy to talk for more than an hour, so I’ll wait around for tomorrow again. Sometimes I feel tired of hanging by a moment too, but the next second my phone rings, I eagerly jump back to square one with you.
Remember I told you that no matter how much I may like you, I will never make you choose between her and me? Between dangling modifiers and excessive use of exclamation points in alcohol-induced text messages, you know I meant every word of it.
I like you, I really do. And it’s okay not to choose me, but please give me some workaround here. Pucha naman, lambingin mo din naman ako.
14.651549
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