No Extraordinary Life  

Thursday, October 11, 2007

by Dementia Praecox

I’m no extraordinary person. In fact, you might have already passed me once and you would not have known it.

I have no extraordinary life. What has happened to me, I’m sure, has happened to others as well.

My life has always been this way. The difference is that now, I have embraced it. To a certain degree, I welcome it.

During weekdays, I wake up between 7 and 7:30am. Straight to the bathroom to wash the night away. Then I dress up while watching Unang Hirit or yesterday’s Today. After I dress to my satisfaction, I go down where my officemate, who hitches a ride with me to from work everyday, is waiting. Then off to work we go. Usually a 30-minute drive along EDSA and C-5.

I am the Retail Products Manager of a spa. This means I spend my day doing mainly these duties: looking for consignment partners, looking for product suppliers and figuring out how the retail activities can contribute to the business.

Usually by the time 6pm comes along, my brain is sucked dry, my body weary. Then I drive home. Sometimes, my officemate and I discuss matters from work. Sometimes, we ride in silence, both doing our version of zoning out so that work will not intrude into our life after the office is closed. At home, it’s dinner and then a couple of programs on cable and then sleep.

It wasn’t always like this. Years back, my life had more bleeps than an episode of The Man Show. An ordinary day can only be described as unlike other days. No day was the same. And I liked it that way. I threw myself to life and life through it back as vigorously. I would fall asleep with my mind listing all that needs to be done the next day. Excitement ran through me until exhaustion claims my consciousness. How I loved it.

But somewhere along the way, I made a foolhardy decision. And my life now, although it’s not a self-imposed punishment, somewhat represents a time-out from my previous one. I live placidly while I try to make myself whole again, and able to tackle life as I want it once more.

Then again, who knows? I might come to love this quiet life as much I have loved my energetic one. Only time can show that to me.

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