Janus Joplin

In a couple of hours, this year will end. But even when January starts, the year really won’t be over. Janus (I just read this somewhere so facts may be sketchy), the literally two-faced god from which January is derived, has one face looking back and the other looking forward. January is that transitional month when we tie up loose ends from the past, then finally cut ties with it to face the future. And being caught between the past and the future is exactly how I feel now.

Oh, it’s not too dramatic. It only concerns a job. Right, just a job. Some of us might just shrug off job matters, saying it’s just part of life and not your whole life. Some of us may complain about our jobs often, even to the point of bragging, and just try to get the most of it by partying or buying expensive things. But I think we should treat a job like it’s really a part of our lives—part of our happiness.

I look at my older brother and see how he loathes his job, but still hangs on to it because he has a family. I see his anger, his frustration, but most of all, I see his fear.

When I ask him if he wants to change his career, he says yes, but immediately shrugs his shoulders and sighs. He feels it’s too late for a change. I think for one to have a happy life, one must be happy with his or her job.

Which brings me to my simple dilemma, which doesn’t sound quite as simple right now. Should I keep the high-paying, unliked job and be emotionally unfulfilled but have money and security for the rest of the year? Or should I, once again, take a leap of faith and believe that there is something out there better for me?

I am Janus sitting on a fence. But I think I already have the answer before I've even recognized it.




Oh well, here's to 2004--the swiftest year I've ever experienced! I'd like to think it flew because I had fun. :)

Christmas 2004

Last night at our annual Yakker barkada Christmas party, I tuned out and concentrated on watching "13 going on 30" on DVD. I was in my own world, laughing and crying at those pretty, little scenes while everyone else chattered, ate, and giggled. Now, I'm not quite sure why I did that or why I felt like doing that. But for sure, I felt content and happy.

It wasn't because I didn't like the crowd; in fact, they were my favorite people in the planet. But last night--I don't know-- maybe I was tired from the whole day shopping or the flick was so engaging, but I just felt like doing my own thing.

It's hard to do your own thing during the holiday season, when you're at the mercy of parties galore and Christmas traditions. You have to do this, go to that place, buy a gift for whomever-- the list just goes on. Of course there are also the nice things, like you get to see your friends, eat all that yummy food, and buy clothes and shoes with your Christmas bonus. But really, sometimes I feel like I'm forced to enjoy eating all that food, or to scour the tiangges just in case I find another potential gift.

Enough is enough. And I guess, last night, the real me forced herself out of all that colorful Christmas mess and longed to be quiet. For sure, it was all in bad timing because I was with my treasured friends, but in a way, I'm happy that it happened when I was with them. Because I knew that at that moment, I'd rather be surrounded by their happy noise than anything else.

Workin' and (close to) Lovin' it

And I'm still wondering how my attitude towards work suddenly made a complete turn-around. After my sickness, work suddenly became a breeze. And I don't know which changed-- my work or me.

Well, I guess it helped that our boss was out of the country and being the irresponsible E.P. that I am, I didn't initiate any post-mortem meetings wherein colleagues can comment on the show and make suggestions on how to improve it. Those meetings almost always add to my duties because I'm in charge of assembling the show. Also, I treated it as a full-time job, instead of its promised "freelance" nature so even if I had to work everyday, I didn't complain.

When the checks started rolling in, I found that I could gain fulfillment from earning money. But still, there must be something in my job that I enjoy. I must admit, after a whole day of assembling an episode, I do feel strangely fulfilled instead of feeling burned out.

I just hope this feeling lasts.

An Old Flame Rekindled

Last night, while making sandwiches, my cellphone's keypad went berserk. I could receive messages but I couldn't read them because the buttons refused to function. So I drove home with a useless phone amidst typhoon Yoyong's impending wrath.

When I got home, I tried to fix my phone in candlelight (it was brown out) but to no avail. Worse, one of the keypad's buttons fell off. I was feeling very frustrated so I unearthed my old battery-less Nokia 3310 from my drawer, thinking that I could borrow my mom's phone battery (she uses a 3315) so I could at least read my text messages. Well, my mom's phone was fairly new and with all my might, I couldn't remove the stubborn case to retrieve her battery.

Sighing in frustration, I got my dysfunctional phone's battery, which was a lot smaller, and tried to fit it in my chunky 3310. And whaddyaknow, it worked! I just crumpled up bits of newspaper and filled up the space to make the small battery snug and stable inside my old phone. Within seconds, I was texting away.

I didn't sleep right away last night because I kept fawning over my old 3310, re-exploring its menu and admiring its sturdiness. Sure, it's an outdated phone, but it's still reliable. I've had it for 3 years and only changed it when its battery conked out last July. Suddenly, old memories were re-awakened, and the phone became a landmark of past events. I used it when I was still in 5 and up, when Spanky and I were still in the pa-cute stage, when I went to Batanes, when I was agonizing over Art is-kool duties, etc. I realized that my phone and I had gone through a lot.

Until now, I still can't stop marveling at my new, old phone. I feel like I've reunited with an old friend, or with an old flame. After a 4-month fling with a slicker, more high tech phone, I've realized that the simple, quiet things last longer than the flashy ones.