Day 4

(Day 4 of the Communications and Culture Training)

Ham and eggs for breakfast. Mom yakking at the breakfast table about how thin I look. I didn’t feel like eating anymore.
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Even with hot water, I was shivering throughout my morning bath. So I hummed the BeeGees’ Staying Alive to fight the cold while bathing.
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I dressed in mean-chocolate slacks, mocha long-sleeved shirt, brown square-toed shoes, and a brick-red jacket. I looked wistfully at the silver-striped coffee brown tie. I thought I couldn’t have it around my neck today, when I’m feeling suicidal.
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Rode the bus to Bacolod City. I slouched in my seat and tried to get some more sleep. But my phone kept vibrating. I saw a kid on the seat right across me staring at me. I stared back. We exchanged stares for nearly 45 minutes, until he surrendered and got off the bus at Sum-ag.
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Traffic at Sum-ag drove me crazy. I was literally hitting the bus’ window with my head. The hell I care about the woman sitting beside me, looking at me as if I’m harassing her. Why, have I ever questioned her revolutionary ideas about exercise, granting she has the brain to think them up?
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I arrived at the contact center, went straight to the Men’s Room, and dabbed cold water on my face. I snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and blurted to the other person in the room, a stranger: Is it just me, or does this paper towel smell like chicken hotdog? He just gave a vague nod and went out. Why did I ask him that anyway? He looked every bit the guy who hasn’t seen a chicken hotdog all his life, let alone smelt it.
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In a world where a mere click can cost you your job, I get easily rattled. I have a hang-up with accuracy, you see. Lunchtime came and my computer hung. I logged in again on the timekeeping tool and in my haste I made the wrong time punch on my PC. Damn! I’m getting a love letter from my trainer tomorrow for it. Well, there is always a first. And Ivy writes such nice love letters, so I’ve heard.
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My team, Team Venom, fought hard to win the Grammar Quiz Bee but Team Joker hauled the 500 bucks by answering the final question worth 10 points. Damn! Oh well, no matter, I got to know more my teammates and appreciate their qualities: Kiaji is smart and experienced in Technical Support; Denny is quiet but talented and active; Sarah is a little unsure of herself but systematic and inquisitive; Marvi is a little off tangent at times but he speaks his mind and takes note of important things the rest of us so easily forgets; and of course, me—a talkie, bright enough to contribute a couple of bucks to our team’s pot money. You bet our team’s a great mix. Team Venom: Better Predator Than Prey!
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Rode in a jeep with the American, Nate, all the way to the bus terminal. For someone who spent years in the US Army, he sure is kind, friendly, and non-combative. I hope he succeeds in polishing his typing skills before the two weeks is over.
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Rode the bus home. Fell asleep. My supposedly spill-proof mug leaked water in my bag, soaking my notebook and organizer. I took them out and spread them on my lap, their sheets flapping in the wind, and went back to sleep. Was that girl beside me scoffing like an idiot or what? The hell I care. I don’t think I’d envy her for her brain-drying methods anyway.