I came home late, my face numbed, brain drained, ego crushed, and feet hurt. It has been eight hours at work, and three hours in school. My landlady, on way up to my room reminded me of my rent, and advised new house rules. I only nodded and smiled of exasperation, thinking that uttering a word or two would entail me energy I was already short of.
Professing perpetual studies, and learning the lessons. .
I put down my five-inch-thick book on a shelf near the door when I unlocked it, turned on the TV, and poured hot water in my cup, put and mixed in coffee, creamer, and sugar as I gasped for breath, and thought of what has been discussed in school, and the deadline that I had to beat the next day both in my regular and part-time jobs. The rays of the sun were slipping through the curtains when I awoke. It was almost seven in the morning. The TV was already airing news about the early traffic, and I realized that I failed to turn it off before I dozed off and I haven’t finished my readings for my evening class. I would snatch an hour or two reading, write an article for my part-time work, and dedicate the remaining time for my full-time job, where I spent my eight hours every day, five days a week. I kept my silence between the walls of my cubicle, thinking that I’d rather make my time useful than chat nonsense with officemates. Years passed, the routine has become my life.
One night and a day after my birthday, I came home late from work and school. Things were no longer the same. I greeted my landlady, “Hi tita! How are you?” I wanted to tell her how happy I was to meet a soul in school, two days after it has opened. But she was surprised to hear me. I smiled and climbed up my room, proceeded with my readings and wrote my articles. I turned the TV off before I finally called it a day.
Juanderworld 