I have officially started my internship at CBN Asia, Inc. And the office happens to be in the Sagittarius building in Makati. I really felt like a working girl, walking down the street with the so-called corporate herd. But who am I kidding? I look nothing like them– in my plaid shirt, denim jeans, and espadrilles, I look like an activist looking for a building to picket against.
It’s been a long time coming since I applied there last year, but I wasn’t really able to start due to some intervening factors. Read as dengue fever, delayed endorsement letter and thesis proposal. I have been assigned where I have been previously assigned, in the Special Projects. Supposedly, I will be a part of the team handling the administrative and creative aspects of Super Book Reimagined. 80’s and 90’s kids should know what this is– if not, at least you should have heard of it and The Flying House. I am really excited for this project, and I am really looking forward to glorifying God through my service and the success of this children’s television program. 🙂
It’s Sunday, and I’m officially free to go home. But instead, I found myself sleeping on three different couches, one of them possibly previously owned by Ms. Regine Velasquez. Possibly. And it just made me realize how I am not really home most of the time, and how inconsiderate I am as a daughter. The thing is, I really have no right to complain every time my mom asks me to go home already. Because, even if I don’t, nothing really happens to me– no allowance withheld, no clothes thrown out of the balcony, no burned books on the lawn. It just makes her sad that I am not beside her when she goes to sleep. She keeps telling me that she gets these nightmares every time I don’t sleep beside her, but that could just as might well be a ploy to make me go home and be the hero. As much as I would like to comfort her, I don’t feel compelled to go home right now.
I feel right at home where I am now, so why bother? I hope you’re safe and comfy at home, my friend. 🙂
It’s a press work weekend and I had to sleep at various places in the office– on mattresses on the floor, on a double deck bed, in the bathroom, or wherever it is I happen to fall asleep in. And yes, I had to sleep in the office couch, which looks oddly enough like a casting couch. For those in the know, I don’t have to explain anymore what that is.
I haven’t finished my draft yet, and it really looks like I’m attempting to write the biography of a certain sociology professor with the length I’m at now. I guess I’d just have to kill my babies on my second draft. But before that, I really want to take a bath.
How’s your weekend coming along, my friend? 🙂
He answered, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
My daily devotions took me to this verse and it compelled me to read the full story of how Jesus healed the man born blind using… great balls of mud put on his eyes, that the blind man also had to wash away in the Pool of Siloam.
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And so it begins, another attempt at maintaining a blog.
The conception of this blog is part peer pressure, part hidden heart song.