Saturday, October 02, 2004


To pass the time as I recover from my nightmare (the specific details of which I'll narrate later), I've been catching up on my reading. In this case, it's Sophie's World, which is taking me a week to finish because of my lack of time.

Interestingly enough, I was at the point where it was discussing Freud. And perhaps that's the cause of my unrestful sleep for the past two weeks. On one hand, I'm not suited for my job: I'm anti-social at heart, and fulfilling the demands of other people is not really in my persona. On the other hand, I want to be good at my job. Obviously, the two are conflicting with each other. And so, I've been repressing the former in an attempt to survive my day to day experience with work (honestly, I can't imagine myself working at a call center for the next 11 months... I have to take it one day at a time). And while that has actually been effective (you can't imagine the morale-boosting exercises I perform just to make myself go to work), it's really taking a toll on my psyche.

Of course it's also a sign of my perseverance and endurance. I will endure. I will cope with the pressure. I'm a person with a will.

On a side note, I'd like to mention that for the past two weeks, even in my dreams, I'm still taking in calls. There are even times when I hear the phone ring, I immediately say "hello" even if I'm not the one answering the phone (or the fact that I'm far away from the phone).
Losing Myself

Interestingly enough, the dream that interrupted my 30-minute sleep involves me pondering what day it was. I mean when we start the day, we usually know what day it is. Since I was dreaming, I had no idea whether it was Monday or Saturday. And then I remembered it was a Saturday but could not remember the specific date. So I started with my reference point (Monday, September 20), and started counting until I reached Saturday. Of course the real date and the date I came up with didn't exactly match. And throughout this entire time, I was thinking of how long I'll have to work (which is why dates and time are important to me, at least at a subconscious level).

My body (in the real world) was even groping for my mobile phone in an attempt to get the time and date. When I coudln't grasp it, I "lost" myself since I couldn't place myself in the right "time" (so perhaps I believe in the theory that time and space comprise a dimension of existence).

What I Want to Do

On my way to Mega Mall yesterday, I ran into one of my batchmates, Joy, who was taking up law at Ateneo's school in Rockwell. It made me realize that one of the things that I really want is to be a plain student, soaking up knowledge without the burdens of providing for yourself. I mean that's why I liked my first month of work: it mainly involves training. Studying and listening to lectures (and of course participating in them) is something I enjoy.

Of course I know that unless I have a wealthy patron, I can't always be studying for the rest of my life. And as much as I want to soak up knowledge, practical application of it is needed for the development of the human person. And there's the matter of wisdom as well.

Of course studying is not the only thing I want to do in life. There are other job opportunities that I want to pursue but are currently inaccessible at the moment (or aren't financially rewarding). I mean it would be simple pleasure to be the shopkeeper of a bookstore, a comic shop, a hobby store, or an anime-related enterprise. Unfortunately, that can't sustain me forever. Similarly, there are other jobs that pay well and I think I'm qualified for, but the slots are currently filled and aren't interested in hiring me.

There are also jobs that I'm in the middle-ground: not necessarily something I enjoy, but not also something antithetical to my existence as well. This is most likely the job I'll be pursuing once I manage to quit my job (hopefully after fulfilling all my contractual obligations) if I don't manage to find other opportunities. When you're at rock-bottom, everything else appears pleasant.


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