these walls are paper thin
"A tie is not a fashion accessory.." I once read, "...it is a chain". Those same words haunted me this morning as I wearily buttoned up my shirt in preparation for the long day and its many deadlines ahead. I hoped that I was being pessimistic and that the day would actually be much better than what I was expecting. I was wrong. I skipped the tie today.
Either way, I can't complain. My eagerness to throw myself at work and to learn new things have proven to be my own undoing, with too many projects and not enough time to deliver by the deadline. Of course, being a government enterprise people tend to be more forgiving (though do not interpret that as it being a slack workplace), but Jason delivers, and damned if I'm going to break my run now. At any rate I can kiss my plans of an October holiday goodbye, and with November and December being what they are I don't imagine I'll be going anywhere until early next year. Sigh.
The tie is a chain, work the iron jail from which there is no escape. Well, without being poor and asking people for spare change. The problem is, I reflected, you can't just go and do something and see some place whenever you feel like it. I met an old friend on the bus yesterday and he was telling me about his planned trip to China with some friends. I was envious. The concept of leave was new to me until recently, its impact only felt when I tried to organise a group outing somewhere overseas. I remember the old days, when we skipped class, drove out to wherever and just had an absolute blast, without a care for time or responsibilities. Then we got jobs, and careers. Suddenly things like work responsibilities and spare leave and other such spanners are thrown into the mix and you find yourself wondering how the hell you're going to coordinate it all. And you can't, unless everyone is really disciplined, saves their leave and plans months and months in advance, the probability of which (among the guys) is normally associated with events like winning the lottery or sleeping with Jessica Alba.
I contemplated this as I lay on my bed, stereo blaring. My door opens. "What the fuck are you listening to?" my brother asks. My father peers in seconds later and echoes the same question. I scrunched my eyes, a little incredulous.
"It's... it's Habanera"
these walls are paper thin
and everyone hears every little sound
posted by jaseypoo! @ 8:55 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home