I took my kids, nephews and mom to this restaurant in the middle of nowhere that serves good food at Manila prices yesterday.

While waiting for our food to arrive, I drew. I knew there would be no cellular signal so I’ve come prepared.

After that very late lunch, we headed to the church in Liliw to park so my girls can buy shoes and sandals.

We got home past 5:30 pm, bellies full and satisfied with shoe purchases. I didn’t buy for myself since my feet require more cushion and heel support. Ageing, you know. If only I could conduct business on my On Cloud sneakers, I would.

At 11 pm, I was still cleaning my kitchen after a marathon cooking session. I made 4 kg of potato salad to go with the steaks I’m grilling now.

Why am I punishing myself like this? I don’t know. Food is my love language and I just want to feed my extended family on my birthday, which is technically tomorrow.

I don’t want to be bothered on the day of my birthday so I did the feeding program today. Tomorrow I just want to stay in bed until it’s time for my spa appointment with my mom.

But I have a job interview tomorrow morning. Well, it’s not really a fulltime job; it’s a side gig. The partner of the firm that I have a sort of working relationship referred me to this company that’s going to call me tomorrow. They’re looking for a writer with investment and finance background and they couldn’t find someone suitable. I told the partner that I need to talk to them first before I commit because I don’t know if they expected fixed hours from me (they’re from a different time zone).

I don’t want to think about work on my break but let’s see if this is a good opportunity.

In the meantime, I realized during this break that I hate my job because I’m dreading going back on Monday. All because of that editor from the land of bubblegum pop. Why are the people from that country assholes?

And tried to release some creativity because I’m already dead inside. Work already killed my creativity. It has made me numb and transformed me into a mass of nerves and anxiety.

I spent an hour in this spot, until the light faded. All I had with me was my dinky portable brush that wasn’t good for washes.

I also did a sketch at the doctor’s clinic yesterday while waiting for my turn. I tried to practice my perspective sketching without drawing a grid.

I think I still need to draw grids.

The paper on this sketchbook is terrible for watercolors but I need to consume everything and finish this as a challenge. I started this in 2022 and four years after I have yet to finish half of the book.

My mom was 46 when I was 16, in my last year in high school. I thought my parents had it all figured out by then. They were old in my eyes.

Now that I’m in that same season, I realize my parents were still groping their way into the world when they were 46, raising hormonal and cranky teenagers (in the case of my brother, a young adult) while they were confronting so much turbulence coming from all fronts. We were already living in that house where my mom still lives in. I am now staring at the same sampaloc tree that I used to stare at from my window when I was 16.

I must be doing something right as my kids have more empathy for me than I had for my parents at that same age. Or maybe I’m just an obnoxious kid then.

I’ve been waiting for hours at my gynecologist’s clinic. Three hours to be exact.

My doctor was called to an emergency so my waiting time took longer than usual. But I decided to just wait it out because I may no longer have a free day to have my yearly check up.

My endocrinologist’s clinic days are full so the earliest appointment that I could get is on 3 Nov. I would have to wrangle some free hours that day so I could have a new Rx for my diabetes meds. As of June, my blood sugar is still at the borderline but I haven’t been exercising that much so I’m kinda scared that I may have sabotaged my future and I may have crossed the line.

Oh Lord, I hope not!

I have a myoma.

Nothing to worry about, my gynecologist said, as it is still small and when I reach menopause that may shrink. We just have to monitor that it doesn’t grow and cause abnormal bleeding or pain.

I also have cysts on my breast but so far they are benign. My paternal aunt’s breast cancer that eventually killed her is not alarming yet but I need to do annual mammograms and transV ultrasounds just for monitoring. It would have been worrisome if the breast cancer is from my maternal side.

But she was alarmed about my brother’s small polyps in his colon. It was discovered during his executive check up. The doctors said they’re not doing anything yet, but that needs close monitoring given that my maternal uncle is battling colon cancer now and his chemo is not yet done.

Belatedly, I learned a cousin from my mother’s side also has colon cancer but I think she’s done with the surgery and chemo.

So my gynecologist wrote an endorsement letter to a gastroentorologist so I can have a colon cancer screening.

I should do this tomorrow by getting an appointment ASAP.

It’s just I’m jumping from creative pursuit to another so I don’t burn out of my moneymaking creative endeavor.

Today is the beginning of my personal time off so I will try to start sketching again and play the piano. I will refrain from writing anything, if I can help it, except maybe write here on my blog.

Writing pulls out every essence of my being so it’s not much of a surprise that I get drained every few months. My last PTO was in June and by September I felt like I was already running on empty.

I need to pull away and turn off my tap because I no longer have anything to give.

Life is good when outside forces don’t intrude into my peace.

I’m alone at home as my kids are out with friends. Twin I has a gig in a bar and Twin A is watching with my bff’s kid, who is also a friend of my twins.

I’m past my prime. It’s their turn and I’m just here to cultivate their talents and potential. ❤️