Finding the Happy in Things Big and Small

My career is off to a very slow crawl. Colleagues and mentors say I need to be patient and prepare myself to endure this for the next two years.


Despite this, I have to say I’m feeling quite happy. Sure, I do not have lots of money. But I do have work (with no boss, as my sister enviously points out) AND I have time for a few of my other interests… interests that add so much more to my life.

I have time to read books at a whim; my budget is the only (minor) constraint. There is a lot of opportunity to dabble in my first love – cross-stitching. Pockets of time are used for writing short notes such as these. And I am able to browse around bookstores and on my favorite websites at a leisurely pace. Another good thing: I never expected that driving, and all the stress that came along with it, could give me a pleasant sense of freedom. There was no need to rely all the time on hubby, which is great as he’s been very busy and his schedule is unpredictable (usually). My driving has made grocery shopping less of a chore. It, as pointed out by an aunt, has made my life more flexible.


I thank God for these small changes in my life. My family and I are truly blessed.

My Mother

I am grateful for my mother. I am grateful for each visit, every hour spent with her. Not all encounters are happy. Sometimes I am hurt by words of criticism and correction. These are not always easy to swallow. But ultimately, each encounter makes me a better and wiser person. I pray to God I can be the same to my children.

Life is Short

I feel terribly sad when I think of the many times I have yelled and gotten mad at the kids this past week. They were getting on my nerves. All the yelling, the mess, the mundane demands that needed to be met ASAP. I was sick and tired.

Now I realize how truly sick I am to have let my selfish id rule over my mind and my heart. Time flies. The kids are growing up right before my eyes. In a few years, they would stop running to me, expecting me to help them with every whim. They would stop asking me to help them tie their shoelaces for the nth time.

I am truly sorry and now promise myself to start cleaning up my act. As an old classmate of mine posted on his Facebook status: "Life is very short... there is no time for BS".

I will love my kids more. I will love them. I will treat them with respect. I will treat them well.

On Fiestas

Fiestas are a fascinating thing.

As I sat on the bus, I noticed that we slowed down to a crawl. I continued to look out the window and saw that there were more tambays than usual. Maybe because today's a holiday, I thought. Then, one by one, I saw the signs.

There were babies clad in those, white, lacy, itchy-looking things. Young ladies appeared to be wearing their nicest blouses (with wide belts and leggings to boot... are belts back?). And the ultimate sign - people sitting on plastic stools and chairs on verandas, clutching plates filled to the brim on one hand while they expertly try to eat with the other hand (using a spoon).

There were men sitting around tables with lambanog/beer and green mangoes, among other pulutans (horrors! will the green mango not give them a tummy ache?). they looked oh-so relaxed and happy.

And the numerous "kawa" (very large wok) perched on rocks and firewood... ahh. There were no banderitas in sight but it was a fiesta alright. Just to confirm my suspicions, the banda came into view. They wore brightly colored gear and were playing a happy tune; the pretty maidens were holding their batons (majorettes, they're called) and were trying their best to smile while getting sunburnt.

Plus toms of trinkets and cheap toys for sale. A happy time for kids, for everyone.

I remember when i was little, fiestas were the time when they bought me this tiny set of palayok fruits perched on a tiny but very real-looking... uh, palayok. I wonder if they still make those.

It's The Little Things

One would think that after a loved one has died, you would remember him for all the big and important events. It's not the case, well, at least for me.

I barely remember our dance on my wedding day. But I do remember how we almost laughed our eyeballs out over something very petty, I wouldn't dare write about it here; it'll be out of context and I don't want to risk sounding shallow. Or how, when I was a little kid, he showed me an imprint made on a piece of clay. He made me guess which object made that distinct imprint (it was from the design engraved on his wedding band).

One time, at home after his chemotherapy, we both couldn't fall asleep. In the middle of the night, he and I drove out for some balut, using his need to buy some medications from a 24-hour drugstore as an excuse. We greedily wolfed down our balut (3 for him, 2 for me).

It's the little things I miss the most. I miss you, Daddy.

Of Taxes and Anchovies

I am pissed off. Really pissed off.

I received a text message from my accountant, asking if I filed my ITR for 2008. She is in the process of registering my clinics. Without skipping a beat, I said I didn’t because I had been in training for the past four years with no pay. What she said next annoyed me to the max. She asked whether I didn’t practice during that time. What irked me the most was that it seemed like she herself doubted whether I really did not. Like she couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. Is this the first time she’s met someone who’s had to train for many years before finally being able to start practice? I wonder.

For the past 6 weeks, I have been doing my best effort to get an accountant who can register me so I can have my receipts already. I had to give up on the first because apparently he was too busy and took days before he returning my text messages/calls. (He was a CPA/lawyer). Finally, I was referred to this one, a very nice lady, soft-spoken and efficient. But she doubted me and I’m pissed.

After years of toiling with no benefits, and working long hours, caring for poor patients with no decent wage, I get accused of tax evasion?! Ako ang mandaraya? C’mon! All I really want and need is to get those darn receipts and start my paying taxes already. Kaya wala tayong asenso. Instead of running after the big sharks (and there’s lots of them), people waste their time fussing over tiny anchovies like me.

But now that I think about it, can I blame her? Pag naglipana ang mga magnanakaw at mandaraya, ang hindi gumagawa ng masama ang nagmumukhang suspechoso. People are jaded. Siguro sa dami ng mga negosyo-slash-doktor-slash-establismyento na dala-dalawa ang libro e nagmumukha nang norm. Bwiset talaga. How do I prove to her/them na wala talaga akong trabaho at pinapagkakitaan noon? Na for the past so many years ay palamunin ako ng butihin kong asawa (actually hanggang ngayon). Dapat bang idineclare ko ang kakarampot na stipend na pinaghirapang ipamalimos ng mga boss para sa amin mula sa mga drug company? Karampot na stipend na inaabot ng 4 hanggang 8 buwan bago namin makuha? Stipend yun e, sabi ng mga kasama ko, therefore tax-free. Pathetic. Grrr...

More About Planners

I am pretty excited about my new planner, not only because of the countless reasons I mentioned in my last post. I am excited because next month, I will be starting my practice (3 clinics, in 3 different cities, 5 days a week) full blast. December, I suspect, would be like a “soft opening” because of the holidays. People are usually not too keen on having themselves checked during the holidays because they tend to be more concerned with parties, and shopping, and reunions, etc. Most aches and pains can wait until the turn of the year. Plus, I’m a fledgling so I am just being realistic; referrals and patients are not going to come pouring in. So new year, new planner, new chapter in my life.

I dream of filling up my planner with meetings, lectures, me-time projects, and patient appointments. Actually, I still have not decided regarding the last one; don’t patient stuff – appointments for BMA, chemotherapy protocols and schedules – merit a separate notebook?

I do have a few more spare pocket notebooks in my closet, not to mention an A5 binder, an A4 2009 notebook that I intend to recycle, and a Franklin Covey (yes, Franklin!) - a hand-me-down, albeit unused, from hubby. That last one I’m pretty excited about though I have not the slightest inkling what to do with it. It’s A5 and has this gorgeous dark brown leather cover, with two pages per day. The left side has a space for a prioritized daily task list (quite a mouthful), a daily tracker (for email, expenses, etc), and the appointment schedule (with a couple of lines for each hour, from 8 am to 8 pm… especially made for the workaholic). The right side is a beautiful expanse of a lined page for daily notes - scribbles, meeting agendas, mind-mapping and what-not. Plus, there’s a quote for each day, mostly related to work and productivity. It’s 2009 and I do want to recycle it for 2010. I just don’t know exactly what to do with it. Do I use it for patients’ notes? I have their clinic medical records for that purpose. Besides, it cannot be easy lugging around this huge binder from one clinic/city to another, regardless of whether I drive or take the bus.

Oh, let me not forget about the spare filofax in my drawer. It’s smaller than the Franklin, only about 5 x 7 inches. I have a couple of packs of loose page refills (lined, for notes). But the filofax’s one-page-per-week layout does not appeal to me. I am a vertical writer. As a student, I loved lengthwise pad paper. I’d often fold a paper in half and write in columns. When I need to use a whole page, my writing barely reaches the right side of the paper.

I do not know of a single friend (real friend, not a Facebook friend) who shares my silly passion for all things paper, notebook, and stationery. Which is why I love wasting precious time surfing blogs such as http://notebookaddict.com, http://unclutterer.com, or http://officesupplygeek.com plus many, many other sites. Though miles apart, people who loiter around these sites and I are kindred spirits. We go through life one (or a few) notebooks at a time.