There's this Korean restaurant in the area. Actually, it's a Korean-owned fried chicken restaurant, or better yet, a franchise of a Korean fried chicken restaurant. Two things draw me there. One, it's always closed, despite being all tricked out inside. Two, it keeps on promoting itself despite being closed, and I wonder whether anybody understands the Korean words inscribed in the three tarps that are placed in the vicinity. Perhaps we've been invaded by Koreans, or selling poultry with beer isn't really a good thing for an establishment near a school.

I was looking out the window of another restaurant, waiting for my order to come. The place was empty, which was unusual considered it's just past one in the afternoon, and there'd usually be a couple of diners or something. The server, in a shirt, came with my sisig meal, with bigger slices of pork and a noticeable amount of liver, something I've totally missed. And, in a change of heart, I took the calamansi and squeezed it on the plate, and the sizzling just went on and on.

I did that before. When I was still in college. Red Spoon. "Ate, isang sisig with egg, saka C2 lemon."

I was thinking of texting Misha last night. It was probably the most random thing I've ever done, if I ever did it. I was sleepy, though, and since the ride was smooth - and the trip surprisingly quick, or it's just me leaving the office at earlier times - forgetting half-baked ideas was effortless. All I knew was, I was supposed to thank her for something that she didn't even know she'd be doing. I did some imagining before fatigue got the best of me.

"I'm so bored," I told Icka earlier. "Time is flying slowly. Or, more of gliding."

"Por que?" she answered, as she usually does.

"I don't know. I feel sleepy and bad - let's end it there - and sentimental after looking, again, at old photos. That feeling of seeing Misha all of a sudden, for one."

I was browsing through old Multiply albums. I think I was hanging out at Mae's space, looking for a particular photo she took during the elections. I was obviously surprised, but it was the most pleasant surprise I've had in months.

"So you're not entirely over her?" Icka asked. "Or just nostalgic?"

"Nostalgic," I answered.

"Feeling all warm and fuzzy inside?"

"Feeling better, really. Like, all the shit in the office, poof."

"Things still aren't better at work?"

"Got worse."