Have a job, thank God

I’ve always complained about my job: the bureaucracy, the unwanted admin work, emotional vampires surrounding me, and the pay that will never reach the ceiling. For one, I work in a foreign-funded project lodged in one of the government’s bureaus. My job as a project coordinator allows me to travel a lot (earning me PAL Mabuhay miles that could take me to Bangkok and back if I would only get to finally fill up that application form), meet and work with interesting people of varying status, come up with cool projects without worrying about funding, upgrade my workstation every so often, go and frolick in the beach (albeit for work) almost every month—and lots of other exciting perks that an ordinary office job (read: corporate) will never give me. But that’s really the thing. I will never be able to bear the eight-hour-a-day routine. I would want to be in control of my time while I work. If my creative juices start flowing at midnight, then I’d burn fuses till dawn. Who said working at the wee hours means you’re not disciplined? Discipline means you’re able to deliver your outputs at the end of the day and it’s only better to have some extra work done—not always the requisite. Efficiency and good workmanship do not necessarily mean burning your fat ass in your swivel chair for eight straight hours.

Even when I was still that Lit major in a white blouse, blue A-line skirt combo, I’ve firmly resolved that work hours will be a considerable factor in getting a job that suits me just fine. Teaching in college—check. You let yourself be plagued with grammatically-challenged Lit papers from students, debate on the merits of the New Critics and the Beats, give lectures on days depending on your schedule, and that’s it. But then you also get disillusioned with how these students turn out to be after graduation. Freelance write—check. But this one you can’t feed a husband and two kids with; freelance like it’s also a fulltime job to survive. My inane CV spews these jobs and pages of freelance gigs and publications in magazines, newspapers and websites but my dream work is yet to be mine: running a clothes-bags-shoes store and a creativity studio for kids. Being in my present job for four years already has taught me that running a business is the way to go. Both the tedium and creativity coupled with intense pressure it entails are definitely a high; plus I like the thought of maintaining your business like it’s your baby (literally) as you do everything to let it grow the way it should be: thriving with life.

And so for now, I am doing what I like and I let it be enough till I can finally do what I love. The thought that it would someday come to reality propels me to move forward; yes, despite the eight-to-five glitch.

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Tita A : "Talaga, Tere's working in Singapore now? Wow, that girl has dreams ha? Galing!" Then proceeds to look at me like she says tsk, tsk, bakit ikaw walang nangyayari sa iyo? (I'm very, very proud of my sister, though)

Tita B: "Why don't you go abroad para naman may marating ka?"

Some guy: "What you have no plans of going abroad to work???"


WTF???

Yes, I want to set up my business here, work here, and do wonderful and creatvie things here in this tsunami-spared, croco-politico infested country. So what?