While editing a difficult story this morning, I was booking my hotel and flight to HK. I decided to limit my movements within Central and Sheung Wan since today is the official start of autumn in China, and this also marks the typhoon season in HK. I don’t want to be a wet duck going to our office. The last time I was in HK was in 2019 but that was in the old building. During the pandemic, the parent company took over and moved everybody under one floor in one of the big office buildings in Central. Among the APAC offices, the HK office got the most use despite the strict rules of the government during their zero-Covid policy, since my colleagues told me it’s better to work in the office because their flats are too small. In contrast, our Singapore office remains empty up to this day despite the return to office order. Colleagues in Singapore are now ordered to stay in the office three days a week, but still we’re like being in a hollow can in there.

I want to go somewhere before I fly to HK but it seems like the weather is not cooperating.

If I want to go to the beach, the time is now. Pffffft. I have work. Maybe can do this on Thursday???

Let’s see what my workload would be…

It’s 4:39 pm and it’s a lovely day and yet I’m stuck inside the house. I need to finish this digest ASAP so I can walk around the campus.

Agggggghhhhhh!

Walking made me feel a little bit better. However, it still stands that I have four articles to write. 😑

But at least I was able to get out. I wonder how long this fair weather will last. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

It has been a year since I got off therapy. There may have been moments I got triggered but I managed them, which enabled me to hold on and not sink into an episode.

Healing from trauma takes time and I should be patient with myself. I had come a long way since I got myself silly drunk around this time in August 2021, trying to numb myself from excruciating pain that killed the old me. It was when I learned about the ex chasing the young reporter, who in turn has been babbling about this to other people up to this day. Both characters have no shame.

Anyway, I’m doing better. It has been a year since…And I decided after that I would be building this house, which has given me peace and contentment.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t get lows or anxiety anymore but I learned how to manage myself. I know now that I shouldn’t beat myself for resorting to self-soothing mechanisms like buying something frivolous—because of all people—it is I who deserve to be pampered and loved. Even if it’s just me loving myself.

I will forever be grateful to the Great Force that pushed me to seek medical help to treat myself. If it weren’t for that, I would have gone down the road of self-destruction—either through alcoholism or going into serial relationships.

I was blue for a while. It must be the season or the hormones. But what I felt/still feeling is nothing compared to what I had to overcome in 2021-2022.

*Pat on the back*

Not in the mood to do anything. I’m hormonal right now (but I’m glad that I still have my period—that means I’m not that old yet). I have too many things on my plate and it’s overwhelming me.

I needed to get out and buy more veggies and replace this lettuce plant with new ones. My home office—actually my whole house—is closing in on me. I’m getting restless but I still have work to finish.

I decided to take the public transport because driving my big car is more trouble. Parking space is hard to come by in our town. I needed to buy *stuff* from Handyman because I wanted to get out. Might as well buy the things I keep forgetting to buy when I run errands. I can do my emails on my phone. If they come looking for me, I just say I stepped out of office. That’s it.

I needed to see the outside world.

I don’t know where this restlessness is coming from. Was it because of what I wrote yesterday? How do I address it? Should I even do anything about it?

I overslept because Sushi had been pestering me at 3 am, scratching my bedroom door, wanting to be let in. And out. And in. And out. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I’m trying to limit my meals to twice a day but today I broke my calorie-intake limit because my chicken rice is 👌. It’s still twice a day but oh no, look at that bowl of rice 🤦🏻‍♀️!

So we walked to go to church and walked back to burn those calories. My girls went straight home while I walked a bit further to catch the golden hour over the bridge near our house.

I couldn’t go any farther because I was not wearing athletic shoes and my leather shoes for church was hurting my feet. Gotta go home.

Need to go to the supermarket now.

For several nights now, I have been having these weird dreams. First was about Edward Norton, whom I had been crushing on ever since I watched him on Keeping The Faith (with Jenna Elfman and Ben Stiller) and American History X. Anyway, in the dream I still had a big crush on him but I passed up the opportunity to date him and eventually he ended up with my friend, Mdz. I was so remorseful and regretted my dilly-dallying.

Then this morning before I woke up, I had a dream about a college friend—a good friend—whom I had friendzoned in real life. In my dream, I didn’t friendzone him and we started dating. However, we had to do it behind our common friend’s back because she was in love with him (in real life she became his gf). And you know what, I missed that kilig feeling, that exhilaration, when something new and wonderful is starting. Isn’t that what youthful romances are all about? And in my dream, I knew I wouldn’t have a hard time because I didn’t have to put my best foot forward because this was a friend who had been with me since when we were freshmen. No pretensions, no lies. And I was spoiled by this person.

However in real life, I kept choosing people whom I had to bend backwards for so they will like me instead of going for people who chose me for me, snot, haggard face, and all. This friend had hung around me in real life during our college years because it was beyond platonic for him. I was unaware and also when he confessed, I wasn’t into him at all because I valued the friendship more. There was no spark.

That person no longer exists because he has evolved into a different person and he’s a happy family man now. The person that was me 19-23 years ago no longer exists as well.

It seems like my subconsciousness brings me back to things that I could have done differently, hence, those dreams…maybe because what I’m feeling now is regret. Just like that dream with Edward Norton. Regret for not being wise, regret for being stubborn. I dunno.

Maybe I should train myself not to let this loneliness eat me and not think about what could have been. I should look forward to the days coming ahead because not everyone is given a second chance to have a new life like this.

The sun is out, for real this time. I brought out the stuff I need to air out or dry under the sun. My asthma is not as bad as yesterday so I did some chores, but not so much since I have my cleaning lady today.

I still can’t go out for errands since I still feel under the weather. All I can do is organize things so my tiny house wouldn’t get cluttered. That’s how it is with living small—you have to clean as you go since clutter can make your house much smaller than it is.

And my cats have enjoyed the dry day. Kimchi started roaming around the yard, while Sushi kept within the stairs area for a change.

I was debating whether I should start assembling the cabinet that I had ordered online or wait until tomorrow when I can recruit my teenaged nephews to help me build it.

But later I asked my sister for an extra hand because the instructions indicated that there should be two people to help with attaching the panels and bringing the cabinet upright.

I woke up in a fit of coughing—asthma attack. I couldn’t breathe properly. I felt terrible. I couldn’t go on sick leave because I was on editing rotation duty today plus our Managing Ed who’s supposed to be on duty today, too, has Covid again.

So I tried to endure. I took Flumicil and ascorbic acid on an empty stomach because I thought that would help me start the day by cooking breakfast.

Boy was I so wrong.

By lunchtime I had this most unbearable stomachache that knocked the wind out of me. I was shouting in pain and was sweating profusely. I took three tablets of antacids (Aluminum Hydroxide Magnesium Carbonate) but it didn’t work. I had to vomit my way out of pain in the toilet. My kids were panicking and thought I was dying because my vomit looked like blood but it was just breakfast (longganisa)

After 30 mins of emptying my stomach and a tablet of Raniditine, only then I was able to stop contorting on my bed. This was followed by non-stop passing of gas.

I didn’t realize that Flumicil (effervescent mucolytic) cannot be taken on an empty stomach. To make matters worse, I took it with 500mg of ascorbic acid. Sheesh.

I should have myself checked for ulcer, as recommended by my new gastroenterologist. I cannot find the prescription he gave me for hyperacidity attacks like this.

And all this drama I was still editing in-between…Talk about slavery.

Good thing it stopped raining so I was able to get some fresh air. My kitties also joined me; they probably saw how terrible I looked earlier today.

Since there was no George around, my cats are back to exploring the area outside our little house. Sushi has been more exploratory lately than Kimchi and has gone farther downstairs. She also gained weight and no longer that skinny. She eats more frequently now compared when we were in QC.

I tried basking under the sunshine for as long as I could but the bugs were starting to overwhelm me. I should really think about installing permanent incense and mosquito coil holders in this area.

I tried to catch the golden hour here before I went back inside for more work.

I don’t know why I wrote that on this photo. Maybe melancholy has gotten the better of me. Maybe I need to get out tomorrow. Maybe I should start seeing people. But then I’m sick. Oh well.

I should really go back to masking and avoiding handshakes. After I dropped the mask, the frequency of my having colds has gone up. It’s annoying to be hit with illnesses like this as this makes me anxious about traveling.

I also dread getting reinfected with Covid, just like what happened to the ex-colleague-turned-PR professional.

I’m prepping for an interview in 30 mins and I’m figuring out a way how I would not sound not too sick for this. *sigh*

For a brief moment, the sun was out.

I went out after a sad interview I had—sad in the sense that I don’t know if I will be allowed to publish it because the interviewees need clearance from the mothership in Japan. I’m legally prevented from sending a draft and they, on the other hand, can’t allow publication without checking the draft. So what’s the point of going through with this?!

I had to go back to edit more stories. I had procrastinated too much and procrastinating still. I now have five stories that I need to write and they keep piling up on me.

After their Apo Whang-Od cover, Vogue Philippines is once again redefining what is a beautiful Filipina. For August 2023, they have 91-year-old Dr. Dolores Ramirez, National Scientist of the Philippines (plant breeding and plant cytogenetics) on their cover. People used to call her Dr. DR and countless students avoided her gen ed course (genetics) because she is a tough professor. People have given her the monicker Mother Cell because she was a pioneer in the teaching of genetics in the Philippines.

Thank you, Vogue Philippines, for celebrating the Filipinas’ intellect and grace. For reminding us that beauty is more than skin deep and that beauty is ageless.

I should buy this issue. My sis-in-law has the Apo Whang-Od issue that I have yet to borrow.

Dear Rachel Ray,

This is how Filipino garlic (with egg) fried rice looks like.

Don’t stress Uncle Roger.

Yours truly,
Niece CallMeCreation.com