Out of the fire, into what?

“Yeah, you should be more than happy as you have done too many cycle in the past few years.”

This is the reply I got from Ming, one of our Regional Management Accountants when I told him that I am very excited about my new job.

I suppose this is the politically correct way of saying “You have stayed long enough in your current job. “ or worse, “How can you stay too long in your current job?” I chuckled.
About an hour prior to this email, I had a brief chat with the group manager of the new team that I will be closely working with. I know I will be writing a lot about her going forward so let me call her, Jovy.

She wanted to speak with me because of some, believe it or not, admin matters. It appears that someone wants to share in the room that I will be occupying. The manager wanted my take on that. “Is it okay to have two desks in a room made for one?” , I thought to myself.

Apparently, this person has been complaining about her work area and bugging Jovy for a more private space. I quite understand her situation so what should someone like me, barely joining the team, do?

This lady’s reputation precedes her, actually. I have heard stories from some colleagues about her. They tell me she has an attitude. But having no first hand encounters, I choose to keep an open mind.

Finally, we meet. Let me call her Mia.

First impression: Very strong willed , quite confident. It ends there. As I said, I choose to keep an open mind. Besides, if we will be sharing that corner, I must aim to like her.

Colin, the one who gave me a heads up on the job vacancy says the people in my “new” division are quite possessive of their “turf”. They take pride in knowing that they “deliver” the products and liaise with the clients. I am the considered an “outsider”, coming from the support group, working ONLY with internal clients. Hmmm.

I will take my colleagues’ unsolicited advise (well-meaning or otherwise) with a grain of salt. Meantime, after this painfully slow handover process with my replacement, I must begin my paradigm shift and brace myself for the bumps that come with change. Buckle up!

My mind adrift

Compliment what she does
Send her roses just because
If it's violin she wants
Let them play

So goes that old song* by James Ingram. The song attempts to teach a man 100 ways to woo his woman.

Heard this one over the radio – “In love, women are professionals and men are amateurs”. I don’t really know the context of this quote but maybe I should rephrase it with something like this -- In romance, women are professionals and men are amateurs.

I don’t know why I wrote this. I haven’t heard the song in a while but the song just keeps playing in my head. I thought, if i post this entry, maybe the music will stop ringing in my head.

*Title, what else? -- One Hundred Ways

Unwelcome reminder

I get this email message from our HR assistant :

“This is regarding your dependents enrolled under Intellicare, please drop by at HR anytime tomorrow for a brief discussion about the premium payment. Thanks”

I knit my brows. I already paid the extra premium payment because my father was over the age limit.

I approach her workstation and she explains. Long story short, our HMO changed the renewal date from 28 Feb to 01 April so I need to make extra premium payment for my father's health insurance to cover for the extra two months (that is 14 months’ until Mar 31, 2006). My heart felt like a ton of bricks so I had to let out an awkward laugh. Took me about ten seconds to find the words, hoping that the intentional delay would allow her to remember that there is no need for that extra payment. Then I quickly realized, she just joined the company and would probably not know about my dad.

So I tell her, “You see, my Dad died in May so....”.

She mumbled “Oh” and checked her list again. “Oh yeah..I will ask our provider's recommendation..”

I held back a reply. Instead I say, “ Ohkay. Let me know then. Thanks.’

I left in a huff towards the ladies room. My mood went downhill from there.

Dreams and white elephant

I enter this huge room. I remember the eerie feeling. At the center of the room is this imposing desk. A tall glass window to my right allows for little sunlight. It was a tall and huge window. I tiptoed just to get a peek through its panes. I believe I saw a view of Ayala Avenue, the Makati Central Business District’s main artery. People started coming in and out of the room. They hold a meeting in one corner of the room, completely ignoring me. I approach the big desk and I see this tiny, sleek laptop. I type something but couldn’t see anything on the monitor. I pick up the phone but the line was cut. I stand up and check another corner of the room where several wooden cabinets stand. There were lots of milk bottles. I was told that the previous owner of the room used to experiment a lot on milk. Huh? Then I wake up. Okay, so the night before, I watched Oprah give away laptops to her all-teacher audience. Okay, so the room I will be occupying next month is facing Ayala Avenue. I believe my apprehension has reached my subconscious mind. But what is up with the milk? I know that the guy who once held the post smokes a lot. But it was milk I saw, not cigarette butts. Across our building is a “breathtaking view” of this old, unfinished mammoth of a building, a white elephant spoiling the vista of the Makati skyline. One look at it gives me the creeps.

In my mind's eye

Next month signals a move outside my circle of confidence. The new job is slightly off my supposed career track. This is a huge deal for someone who, a few years back, would have cringed at the thought of taking a drastic turn.

The idea scares me at times but life is about managing change and taking on challenges. ‘I wonder ifs’ fill my head. So what? No one is supposed to have all the right answers. That is God’s department.

Flashback several years. I was waiting for the HRs update on my application for the consulting group of this prominent auditing firm. Less than two weeks of waiting was too long for a neophyte in the corporate jungle. So, I made a hasty decision of requesting HR to pull out my application from the consulting group and forward instead to the audit group.

To this day, I wonder if that was a crucial fork in my career. Or maybe it was a good move because eventually, I was able work with the corporate finance department of another company. And yes, I was a newbie. It was okay to make mistakes. What’s that line? “It’s okay. I am young. My heart can take it.”

Yet, I feel, I am back where I started. At the back of my head wondering if this move will help my career in the long run.

I know that I want to leave my current post. I know that I still like working for this company. Taking on this job seems to be most logical step to take. Did I just make a decision based on the process of elimination? No. This new post is manna from heaven. God’s provision at the right time. The fruit of months of constant prayers.

So let me just take my steps as far as what He allows me to see. I can’t know it all. That is God’s expertise. And that more than works for me.

“No eye has seen. No ear has heard. No mind has known what God has in store…”

Quotes

"Even to see her across the room is liberal education."-- C. S. Lewis

Love makes mute of those who habitually speak.*

Two quotes. One on attraction, the other, on that thing called love. I read the quotes again and I can't help but smile and say to myself…."It has been awhile…..quite."

*I have to research on where this came from. My guess is, he/she loves to talk until someone silenced him/her.

Half a million pesos richer

I was watching this game show that has a pot money of, you guessed it, Php500,000. The remaining contestant has to answer only three questions in 45 seconds to win the prize money. The computer randomly selects the category and the pointer stops at, you guessed it, music. I readied myself to answer.

“What is the name of the group that sang ‘No Touch”? … I say “Juan dela Cruz Band!” The male contestant says “Pass!”

“Who sang the song “It is not unusual?” ..I say, “Tom Jones!” and the guy on TV says “Pass!”

The clincher question goes “Andy, Barry and Robin Gibb belong to a group called?”
I say, “That is a no brainer! Bee Gees!” And again, the contestant says, “Pass!”

Oh goodness…! I got all three questions correctly! The contestant won Fifty thousand pesos for the effort.... I got arrggh, frustrated.

"I have a dream..."

Just the thought of having one dream possibly coming true is just too much to contain. And I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Excitement wells up inside me. Of course there will be trainings and preparations. I am aware of all the hard work that will go into this (not to mention the extra late hours). The responsibility that comes is not to be taken lightly.
But when you know that your heart beats for a certain vision, you will pray for it with as much passion. And that is what I am doing.

Sunflowers for you

You make me warm And all aglow When I am cold you melt my snow Please stay with me Through all my hours I'll give to you a sunflower For me, your heart And a sky of blue And all I bring? Sunflowers for you. --anonymous--

A night with Oprah

Last night, as in so many other nights, I cried myself to sleep.

This time, I blame it on the Oprah show which featured women victims of incest. Three sisters, probably already in their late 30s to early 40s filed charges against their 66 year old father for rape and molestation. It took them almost two decades to gather enough courage to defy family and society pressures and to come out in public and demand justice for a crime that stole their childhood away.

I wanted to turn off the tv midway during the show because it was difficult not to be affected. From what these women shared, they had no vivid recollection of a happy childhood. It doesn’t matter if the molestation happened daily (like what the three sisters endured) or just once, the experience consumed their entire existence. Even Oprah, who has been open about her past experience agrees that she does not have any recollection of a happy childhood because the memory of being abused blurred everything else. The scars are seemingly permanent.

I cried for these women especially for those who suffer in silence. I applaud those who chose to come out, determined to begin the healing process. I admire those who chose to forgive, gradually freeing themselves from the clutches of bitterness and self pity.

Sleep eluded me even an hour after the Oprah show ended. I open a book and start to read. Then, I remembered my father. The tears came again. I thanked God for giving me and my sisters a God-fearing man. I had a beautiful and happy childhood. My growing years as a teenager went as it should. During our innocent and (more) trusting years, we were protected. What a gift.

And oh, the tears-before-falling-asleep ritual is just my only way of expressing how much I miss my father. I didn't need Oprah's help.