Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Labor of Love

Midway through my confusion, I found myself lost in a tangled wood of aimlessness and paranoia. For the past two years I had been working as a free-lance arkitek, a macho fafang konstru and a fashoinistang parlorista. I was a drudge, a drunkard and a futile drone carrying pipe dreams on my scrawny shoulders. Though well-paid considering my folks were still sending me money, I was not happy and content and I could now see why they call it compensation. Work deprived me of my happiness--- my level 5 superdudes account DEATHunmasked, the "occasional" beer drinking marathons with Miguel "the man", the humming strokes of nightly pleasures with my harem, Britney(may she rest in peace) and this not-so-scary blog. And my pay was supposed to compensate for the torture!

I left my corn-eating brethren in search of greener pastures, in search of a job that would give me both income and leisure. Countless nights with San Miguel, my sole companion during the darkest times of my tribulation, had passed. Then another when we chanced upon Andoi, my domestic partner for a year who sneaked a quickie with my FHM collection, and caught up with him that eventually led me to this job.

When the year started, I had the dubious fortune to start as a graphic artist with a decent pay. The first day was a cinch. When asked to take my hands on Mac, I instantly nodded off on the department head's chair. As workstations go, mine was minimalist with a tinge of fine taste(as if you still couldn't tell.hehe). A table. A plain white table with nothing on it. Didn't have my own PC and for two weeks I felt like an alpha male rabbit hopping from one workstation to another. Dust, tissue paper, job orders and packages usurped my turf until my drop dead gorgeous Christina arrived. My workstation slowly evolved into a lavish throne. Just about the size of a phone booth. Not to mention the 1x1m of vinyl where one can freely gambol on to the beat of Usher's Confessions. The imaginary castle walls that separate me from the group and two senior officers who could discreetly peer at my computer screen whenever they want to or when I'm browsing for soft porn, also serve as an impenetrable force field from gregarious beings and unwanted intruders.

If I leaned back in my reclining seat I could take a 45 degree view of my officemate's seraphic smile. She too enjoys the intersecting line of vision to a mirrored image of my activities on her own computer screen. To my left is a door where I often take a minute vacation on a photocopying machine with my dream girl(I call her the energizer bunny). And as if they were layers in a photoshop file, people(the president, chairman, guests, the sinecure, applicants and Baroga) zoom in and out of my peripheral vision. Privacy is immaterial here. Break wind, and your blast would send faint vibrations in the room. Stop this non-sense. All I want to say is I already miss the derelict in me. It seems I am ensconced in an alien environment with only this blog and friendster to remind me of what I had left behind, my friends.*sniffs* And you ask me if I'm happy? CHORVA!!!

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