Two-sided patience

"Good luck," Daes typed in. "And I really mean it, kahit nakakainis ka."

An hour after I read that message, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Heck, I was in tears at the mall, telling my mother my concerns about life! It isn't the disillusionment, it isn't the six month probation period - it's a clause in the contract that neither me or my dad could understand, because it's just plain confusing.

The morning before, I finally decided to accept the job offer. My father, in his business mindset, could only say it succinctly: it's better, at least in the headhunter's perspective, to see an applicant has already snapped up a job almost immediately after graduation, else they start to wonder about the bum gap. My mother was talking about the experience; at least I'm still getting a job that's related to writing. I won't be coy about it - this is just the take-off point, hopefully to a publication, despite my lack of traditional credentials for it. The weird thing is, that's what I don't really understand.

Yesterday, during the gap between the baccalaureate mass and the rehearsals, Jackie and I were talking about our jobs. Well, I still didn't have a job then, but I was telling her that I'm steps away from taking it, or something to that effect. She's working at a PR agency, and her life currently revolves around writing press releases about beauty products, while getting flown to other places in the country for stuff. Well, the work hours are reasonable, even if Saturdays are involved, but she's also there for the experience - and for the idea that the big networks don't really respond until months after your application.

Suddenly we're both in the same predicament. We're now both hoping that we don't get the opportunities we don't want to miss within our probationary periods. Half a year of being stuck, if you put it harshly, really. But what are we really in it for?

"Financial independence," my mother said. "Alam mo, hindi ka naman namin oobligahin for anything, eh. Kung meron man, yung phone bill mo." Then she goes with a smattering of calculations about what my salary could do, all while I'm still trying to fight the tears away. Perhaps it's sleep deprivation and frustration rolled into one. I can't really tell. I've been having too many thoughts in my head, about the disillusionment I got during the examinations, the fact that I can't leave if something better (in all its subjectivity) comes, the fact that I didn't get a job just to leave it - it suddenly puts me in a disarray. Who can help it?

Ariane is also finally getting a job: she's finally decided to veer away from her original plan, if only to help the family. We've been talking to each other often lately, about that job application that we had in common - the one that got me a job - and about other things. Government forms, perhaps, or just plain sense. Experience, she also hopes, although I've been telling her that she might not be able to go back to the dreams she had. But, ultimately, it's in where our priorities lie.

Mine? That's where it got confusing. I already had a reason to continue, but perhaps I have been unstable lately, and one glance at something will snap me back to something. Thus, I can't sleep for the past few nights, for the past few weeks, scared of something I have yet to explore. As my mother put it, I still have to make that first step.

And indeed, that's what makes me, as Daes put it, nakakainis.

And your responses...

i wrote a comment early but it got erased. phooey.


i started with a sigh. sigh because we're all growing up and we have to face this cliched "real world" we've been hearing about since forever. i realized that there comes a point in our lives when we have to let go of our dreams and organize our priorities. then you just have to hope later on you could still do the things that you love to do. it only happens to a lucky few though.

good luck with your life niko :) im sure you'll be successful! btw, where's jackie working now? that's so cool she gets to go to places!

Anonymous Anonymous6/19/2008     

Post a Comment