the Ber-shirk Chronicles

I am bored out of my wits. It’s not the lack of work to do but the lack of energy to do it. Good vibes, baby, good vibes.

This morning, the cabbie I was riding broke down in one of the ungodliest places in all of EDSA--- the Shaw Tunnel. Not only is it dark and polluted, but it will be almost impossible for you to get an empty cab to get you out of there. But yes, TODAY of all days--- on a MONDAY morning, anticipating/ dreading a coffee “date” with someone who, I’m pretty sure, gets 90% of what I’m feeling and would therefore drive me to tears, and on a day I still lack some sleep from baking my first lasagna. Aaah, the shit that happens to me when I’m on my way up.

So there I was standing like a moron in the middle island, in my brown dress and 4-inch wedge, holding what seemed to be like a 5-kilo handbag, my laptop and two Tupperwares of lasagna, waiting for an act of God to save me. 15 minutes of absorbing all the pollution and feeling like a goldfish inside an aquarium being curiously ogled by the cars that passed me by, a cab finally stopped and took us in (my co-cabmates). 28 minutes late is still not bad considering how late my other officemates came in. So, this is still a start of a good week, right?

Anyways, the point of this post is that there is no point at all. I just love shirking…Or better yet, I just love doodling nonsense while waiting for my doomsday. I don’t even know how this coffee thing came about. I don’t know what I should expect to hear. All I know is that my hands are clammy and there’s a pit in my stomach that I cannot explain. Whatever it is that he will say should not make me spiral back to the infinite abyss of sadness. If, for anything, I should be happy that someone is willing to purge it all out with me. As the song goes, misery loves company.

And the other half of my misery is just a few hours away.