Thursday morning.

I can't drive to my meeting, because my vehicle's plate number ends with a 7, so I end up waiting for a Grab.

For some reason, someone who was at the Mall of Asia area at that moment accepted my request. Consider that I'm coming from Mandaluyong, and my meeting is in Makati. That's an awfully long distance, and a pretty long wait, too, considering he's supposed to arrive in half an hour. But it's just half past eight, and my meeting is at ten. It's not a big deal, really.

I get a phone call. It's the driver. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but considering he was complaining about how he's stuck in traffic and was a long way away, I felt he was trying to make me cancel the ride. Would it not impact his ratings? I'm not sure how this works. But again, it's not a big deal, so I did nothing. He ended up cancelling, and a new driver who's much closer came to get me ten minutes later.

It was a very long day of meetings. After this one at a government office - which, arguably, I didn't have to go to, but felt I had to just so I knew what was going on - I was heading to a hotel much closer to home to meet with potential sponsors for an event we were organizing. I was hoping to be able to get home for lunch, but of course the government meeting ran long - it's not their fault - so they ended up serving lunch. At least I don't have to spend money on food this time, I thought.

I did spend for coffee before that meeting, and later, I spent more for coffee at the hotel, just so I could justify sitting at the lobby for an hour before the folks I was going to talk to arrive. Turns out they've been there all this time, on the other side. Oh, well. You can't always win everything. But at least we all had an afternoon tea set while talking business, and later, talking other things. I had no choice. It rained all of a sudden, and I did not have an umbrella, and I was planning to walk home.

Friday morning.

I am in a McDonald's somewhere in Pampanga, having breakfast in the middle of my annual drives to Clark. It's fuller than usual, but then, it must be because it's a Friday. I usually drive on a Thursday, which means I'm rushing to get back home before number coding hours start.

I scroll through my phone while waiting for my number to be called. I read that someone jumped out of their condominium balcony the morning before.

The condominium was right next to mine.

"I almost tripped on the body at the wheelchair ramp," a reply said. "It's a foreigner, I think."

My head goes back to the morning before. I was waiting for a Grab at the time. Actually, I'm definite we drove by where all this happened. I don't remember anything extraordinary happening at the time, so maybe things haven't happened yet? I'm not sure. I could be wrong. The post said it happened at half past eight, and at the time I was still at the lobby, receiving that phone call.

Sunday afternoon.

It's been more than a week since I had my water supplies refilled. I did come from Bangkok last week, and then the last few days have been pretty busy, too.

Since the water station in my building shut down, I've had to do it at the condominium next to mine. Others have their containers picked up and delivered. Too little control, I felt, so I decided to just bring the whole thing myself, every week. I have a stroller of sorts to carry the container, but the sidewalks are uneven, the ramps are not always there, and the road is generally rough.

I walk by the place where it supposedly all happened. Not that I doubt it ever happened. It's just that, three days later, life here moves on, and apart from a sheet of plastic covering the damaged roof where the person first made impact - damn, how do I put that more gently? - there's nothing else. If you didn't know what happened, you'd be none the wiser.

I've been thinking about that, about how life goes on while we go through these really bad storms. Am I a terrible person for not thinking much of what happened? I don't know much, so there's little reason for it to affect me, but what exactly do you do when you know things you didn't know before? How do you act with that knowledge?

I remember a few years ago. I went to this flat to spend a few nights, and somehow, in the process, annoyed the ex so much that she decided to leave for her mother's house. I think I was too loud? I think I wasn't in a good mood? I don't remember. What I do remember is being so distraught that I decided that, right then and there, I wanted to kill myself.

There are water sprinklers in the flat. Can that be a good spot for me to put some rope up? Can I hang myself there? Will it support my weight?

Obviously I didn't push through. I didn't have rope, for starters.

I've talked a few times about how I have entertained thoughts of ending it all. I must've told the ex about this particular instance. She laughed at me. "That will not support your weight," she said. She should know. She tried to hang herself once. With a shawl, by the doorknob. Unsuccessfully. I didn't save her life, but she showed me her suicide note, her attempt to say goodbye to me. We threw it away at a trash bin at a matcha place somewhere.

A few years later, she would tell me, pretty much, that my suicidal ideations mean nothing because, unlike her, I did not act on them.

Apart from a sheet of plastic, flapping in the wind, trying to cover the damaged roof where the person first made impact, there's nothing else. If you didn't know what happened, you'd be none the wiser. And so, life goes on.