Wishful Thinking
I have a picture in my photo album which shows me dragging my mom's right shoe across the floor, all the while deluding myself that I was actually wearing it. I had the look of self-concentration as I slowly progressed my way in inches.
I think there must have been one point in our life when we all yearned to be older than our actual age and not necessarily to be like our parent. In my case, I thought glamour was synonymous with being old. It meant that I got to wear high heels, work in an office and do whatever my heart desires. I can stay up late, have my own money and watch anything without having to be forced to look away at some scenes that are deemed unsuitable for me. I would not be told to take an afternoon nap (an activity I seriously had an aversion for back then), not be required to eat more vegetables and not always be bossed around by those older than me.
Now that I've reached the age when all these things are possible, I find that I already have the authority to lecture to my younger self about reality.
Issue #1: High Heels-- Wearing closed shoes alone is enough to cause you pain. To wear high-heeled closed shoes is suicide. Wearing high heeled shoes with one or more straps are no better since these straps mark your skin and leave you with striped feet.
It is deemed more fashionable to have on high-heeled shoes than flat-soled ones, so if you feel that the added height is well worth the blisters that you will get as souvenirs, and if you feel that elevation affords you more power (as you are enabled to look straight into your employer's eyes or afforded the top view of everyone's heads), go ahead. Grin and bear the experience.
Issue #2: Working in an office-- My sisters and I used to play a game that we called Office-ofisan. My suitcase was an empty Jolly hotdog styro-container and my papeles were self-written memos which included celebrities' names that were mixed & matched and some silly-sounding invented names. In real life, your bag will have to be much tougher than styrofoam because it will contain documents that are twice its holding capacity. You will encounter client names which are sillier than what you've invented and the real challenge lies in not bursting into a guffaw every time you say his name to his face. And your papeles are worth more than your life if it involves a million-dollar deal.
Issue #3: Freedom-- The funny thing about freedom is that it costs a lot. I still live in my family's house and I know that the only way for me to be relatively free from the restrictive rules of my father is to live elsewhere. BUT, I have to pay the rent, spend on food and electricity, while at the same time try to save some money for the primary reason why I wanted to get away from my father's clutches: GIMIK. I still have not included the intangible costs, like putting up with the owner of the place I'm living in, irate neighbors, crowded and noisy environment and peeping toms..
I don't think my parents will be thrilled with the idea of me moving out, and will likely forbid me to do so. Plus, if I'm short on money, I can't ask my parents for some.. Yep, freedom is expensive.
Issue #4: Being bossed around-- I used to think then that when you're old, nobody will boss you around. I just never thought that those who were older than me then still have the capacity to grow old. So even if I'm older now, they're still older than I am. Bummer.
Moreover, there would be a lot more people now who will be bossing me around. My would be boss, for example. And her boss, and her boss's boss.. Being an employee requires some level of subservience, and the fact that you have willingly placed yourself in a position under a superior gives your boss the authority to do just what his/her position's name implies.
I am already tired of staying up late. In fact, I have gotten so used to working late that I am not able to sleep early. Frustrating. I want to sleep more but I have a lot of things I must attend to. It kind of makes me wish that I took my afternoon naps diligently when I was a kid, instead of putting on theatrics and pretending I have just gotten out of bed. As for eating less vegetables, I think I have actually acquired a taste for the green and leafy things that I eat them even when I'm not told to do so. I swear, my mother has advanced programming skills.
Oh, and one more misconception. When I was in fifth grade, I believed that the ideal age for marriage was 24. I saw myself happily wedded to a man whom I love and surrounded by three adorable kids. Umm..How cute. At this thought, I had to keep a smirk from invading my face. I'm already twenty-one and I honestly don't see myself married in three years' time. Heck, I don't even have a boyfriend! And three kids?! I don't even think it's that wise nowadays to have more than two children in the family. And love.. That's a different topic altogether, an issue which is neither definable nor brief enough to be discussed in a single journal entry.
This coming Wednesday will be a day of many firsts- first day of work in my first job as a fresh graduate, I might experience the first of the many hectic and stressful days to come, I'll be having my first lunch with my newly-introduced officemates and my first experience of every type of embarrassing situation. I'll already be working and I feel like I'm still in high school. And the thought that I'd be working for the rest of my life fills we with utmost dread. I just hope that I'll be able to enjoy my first paycheck. Hah! Wishful Thinking..
posted by lovefool @ 4:00 PM
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