The Business Letter

A couple of days ago, my new supervisor handed me a white envelope. It was weird receiving a letter from a company especially if the letter was addressed to me. I opened the parcel, ripping it on its side. It was a business letter alright - in two pages. The content was formal. It followed the business writing that I learned when I was in high school. I know I should not talk about the grammar or the tenses of how it was written; I am writing this piece because the letter tells me where I am now and how the past six months have gone by.

The letter states that I am now a regular employee. For the first time in my 29 years, I have become a regular employee. The formal dressing, the dizzying bus trips, the tensed feeling of long interviews, the night schedules, the memorization of hundreds of papers, the proper diction, the exam harassments, the tight compliance with company policies, the stressful conversations with the clients and the pressure of hitting my metrics - these are the things that occupied my hyper time. The remaining time and energy left are for sleeping. I became a lousy homemaker, best friend, sister and daughter. Opening this white envelope reveals a lot of thought and issues that I’ve been ignoring for the last six months. As the letter ended, I think about some things that put to an end to an almost perfect job.

It’s the friendship that matters and how I can grow and move inside the company. They say people in your lives come and go. I never realize how fast it will be in this kind of industry.

I made friends during my training days. There were seven of us originally. We ate, we laughed, we smoked, we dreamt and texted each other. As we were distributed to different teams, the text messages became fewer, and soon enough most of them resigned and the only three of us were left. I made friends again with the new team. The closest friend I had was Joanna. We were inseparable until one day she was gone. I was so sad and lonely that I never sit at the last post we spent together. The spam messages were gone and soon enough the work is work and was never fun at all. Two months after, my supervisor sent a goodbye letter. The team was again, distributed to different teams. I was now under this supervisor who is kind of homophobic. I was absent for two days because my partner was very sick. He told me it was not valid because she was not to be considered as an immediate family member. Nakakabadtrip kasi sabi nila call center jobs are for LGBT’s because they don’t discriminate. Technically, she was supposed to be considered as an immediate family member because we were living together as what other married couples do. Kasalan ko ba kung walang legal documents? As I think about it, that supervisor is the one who is homophobic not the company. He is the one to decide about this case and even if I called earlier I was tagged as NCNS (Read as AWOL).

As I am folding back the business letter, putting it inside the white envelope again, I think about what I am going to do if I decided to resign because this is the thing, it is easier to leave because you have an option to stay.

In My Life (Movie)

This is not another movie review instead, it is a recommendation and I couldn't say more.

Ondoy

It is Sunday, 27th of September 2009 and this is not an ordinary weekend. It is my last rest day and It was supposed to be chores day instead I was just sitting at the couch staring into nothingness. God, there is no coffee in the cupboard, no decent food in the ref and no emergency canned goods lying around. The mess of the house and the mountain of laundry are irritating. It was doomsday. It was doomsday and I only have potato chips to survive.

I feel angry and upset and so I watched five lousy movies and get eight hours of sleep. I still feel livid and distress by the time I woke up and I end up sitting at the couch and staring into nothingness again. I cannot make myself do the laundry or sweep the floor for a start or maybe even make an effort of opening the bag of chips. There is something I need to do or feel or something I am waiting to happen. And it does. My cellphone was ringing and as I looked who the caller is, it was my dad. I’m battling with myself if I’m going to answer or not. Why is he calling me? (Answer it.) Did I do something wrong? (Don’t answer it.) Is he asking me to join the family day? (Answer it.) Will he be making arrangements for December to babysit my teenage sister? (Don’t answer it.) God, the flood! Is my family okay?! And so I answered it. It took me awhile to answer it but I did.

Me: Hello?
Pops: Are you okay?
Me: Yeah, Okay lang kayo dyan?
Pops: Oo. Where are you?
Me: Bahay. Baha. Two people are dead.
Pops: Somebody texted Jay, nawawala ka daw.
Me: I’m okay.
Pops: Baha pa ba?
Me: I don’t know. I don’t wanna go out.
Pops: San ka ba malapit sa Araneta? Funeraria Paz or Arlinton?
Me: Arlington. Baha pa rin dyan?
Pops: Hindi. Just take care, okay?
Me: I will. Kayo din, bye.
Pops: Bye.

And the phone call made me cry. It’s a five-minute good cry. I’m 29, independent crying lesbian. The cry clears my head and bravely, I booted the laptop, inserted my USB and opened up the Word because now I am ready to take a step inside the time machine and go back to yesterday as I write what happened 26th of September 2009.

The team building was held at my officemate’s covered rooftop. The party’s a blast as we eat and drink our P4,000.00 Sodexo (Team funds in a form of GC provided by the company) away. By 1pm, the party was ended and we were alarmed to see the flood downstairs. Babes, the guy who owned the place told us it was the first time that the flood reached their driveway. Now this is serious. From Instrucion in Espana, I dipped my newest chucks to a knee-high flood. My teammates and I are cruising Manila with umbrellas that are pretty useless as we made an effort crossing the vehicle-less main road with strong waves of flood crushing you back and forth. It was sort of fun since it gives the true meaning of “team building”. We departed at Rotonda. The team left as a team because they have one destination and that is the LRT. I was left alone and my goal is to reach Araneta Ave. and that’s where the horror starts. I folded the useless umbrella and put it inside my already wet bag. I was bathing in the rain, no typhoon rain, with my glasses on. It was a long walk. It’s been an hour before I reached the part where the flood is in my shoulders. It was scary and I sat on the jeepney’s bumper together with other stranded people. The bus was stuck in the middle of the flood, alone and we can see it from afar. It didn’t make it. The flood was deeper on that side and it was half the bus already. That same street was deeper because it already reached the Suzuki’s E. Rodriguez’s branch service bay ceiling. God it reached the ceiling! Flood and fire. People’s houses were shattered and some caught fire. Imagine houses under the flood like Atlantis? A child was drowned and seeing this before your eyes was horrible. Too horrible that it made me stare and gives me nightmares afterwards. I found my way home through begging Philippine Charity Sweepstakes to let me through their gate so I can pass thru the other gate where I lived. I was lucky, seeing Bayani St. was somehow at peace. I reached the third floor panting, packed with heavy clothes, colds, virus and in a disoriented situation. It was not long when I think about the disaster in Istanbul or the red dust in Australia. Now, “Ondoy” hitting the Philippines. How come this is not predicted earlier? Does our government have to do with this?

So there, it took me a five-minute good cry to collect my thoughts again and retell my story to someone who cares. I feel lost for more than 24 hours and I haven’t received any caring words from my family except my bestfriend Ivory up until now. I don’t blame them, probably they where in a state of feeling disoriented too and my girlfriend’s flight was cancelled twice already and was stucked in Bicol and knowing how she will go straight to her family’s house to attend a birthday party after Ondoy’s aftermath didn’t make me feel good at all. Who wouldn’t feel sh*tty?