earthquakes notwithstanding

I am at work on a Saturday evening. We finished a planning session a few hours ago and now we're doing the work that we're supposed to have done this morning if we hadn't had that planning session. In the planning session, we were made to go through a "tunnel" under a row of chairs, in pairs, simultaneously from separate ends of the "tunnel". HR Facilitator was quick to point out that our team, Sir N and I, were heavyweights. What an understatement. Alone, I would have a hard time going through that tunnel--and with another person? Just too much to handle. I ended up "breaking the rules" a bit. Apparently we were all "obedient" because we didn't question the need to do it. I did, but I kept it to myself. And in a jam, I readily break the rules. I knew that. And now, it's back to work, obedient people that we are. (Well, right now it's pretend working. Blog first, work later.)

Meanwhile, on earthquake-related stuff: I was at Starbucks Glorietta 4. Ate J. and I were looking at the plastic Starbucks glasses (the ones that come in the plastic tote bag) when Maleen pointed to the ceiling. Ate J. thought I was being mean when I suddenly looked away from her mid-sentence and stared at the ceiling. The (paper? fabric?) lantern shades of the Starbucks lights were swaying ominously. Then I felt it, a gentle rocking. Everyone had left by this time, but we had just taken our orders and I, for one, didn't want to waste a good raspberry tea frappucinno. So there we were, glued to the spot. Like prophecygrrl, I do not know whether it's safe to go up or down; in any case, we would just have taken our chances and run out to the smoking area. I would have wanted to experience this at one of the upper floors of Oakwood, though, knowing in hindsight that it wasn't a fatal quake. That would have been fun--motion-sickness-inducing, but fun. Supposed nightcap quickly became an earthquake-story-fest, with Vanj having the most interesting story, having been a student in Baguio during the fateful July 1991 earthquake.

N., the former SO, was in Cavite and started texting me, asking where I was and with whom. Another text said that he was concerned and to let him know when I was already home. I texted him, "Hello, OA ka!" I don't want to be mean, but I don't see the need to be answerable to him in any way. It's been more than a year since we've broken up, and I'm not exactly keen for him to be back in my life. Why is it the people we don't really want sticking around do stick around, while those that you wish were still with you don't want anything to do with you? Am I wrong to push him away because, heck, he's the only guy who'll have anything to do with me right now?

Last Song Syndrome : Trouble - Pink