So how’s being a bum so far? Sad, of course, as I am not used to feeling worthless. The feeling is strongest during the day when I’m alone at home. If not for the so-called Coronovela on TV and music and “A Feast for Crows,” I’d surely go bonkers (or more bonkers than I already am). But at least the urge to smoke is not there, unlike in the past three weeks when I was puffing more than half a pack a day. A TB survivor like me should not be smoking.
(For the record, I have two pending job applications, and both seem promising, I can feel it in my guts. Hopefully my phone will ring with good news before the month ends.)
Today I sold a story to Catholic news site UCANews.com. That made my day. I thank my former editor, Mr. Joe Torres, for the opportunity to be a journalist again.
Meanwhile, a picture of me and the ocean, taken last May 12, a day before Mothers’ Day, in Calatagan, Batangas.
It was actually a reunion. The last time I was face to face with the ocean was in 2001 in Claveria, Cagayan, when I was asked to write about the province for the Manila Times. Between that and Calatagan, Batangas, there was Manila Bay, but that hardly counts as a beach trip for obvious reasons.
Although the reunion didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to be — I wasn’t able to take a dip as I the stillness of the water freaked me out, the ocean floor was too rocky for comfort, and it was far too cloudy for a magnificent sunset — I was still glad to be that close to the ocean again, to smell its salty air and feel warm sand between my toes again, to just stand there staring and wondering at its vastness, secure at the thought that no matter how fucked up things seem to be in the big city, one can simply run to this and enjoy life and forget everything, the worries and the pressures and the madness of the daily grind.
Perhaps I can write about the whole trip next time. A real travel blog, why not? These days, I’ve nothing but time.