Analysis Paralysis

My very good friend likes to repeat these words to me, "analysis paralysis." I could analyze something until it's stripped to the bone, and then it would be too late to make a decision.

This means I am taking myself too seriously. And when you start taking yourself too seriously, you're taking out the fun from the moment and you're just a big ball of worry. Big ball of chaotic energy.

So girl, stop with the what ifs and maybes, and just do.

Life's mini-dramas

I was so out-of-sorts, I couldn't even take more than one bite from my favorite pandesal


Today is one of those days where things just surprise you--and not in a good way. The day started productive. It was busy as usual at work. Then suddenly not so good news arrived late within the day.

It's nothing earth-shaking and just the usual issue of expectations not matching what is realistically possible. This is a tired fact about work after all. I'm not going to dissect the ifs and buts of the situation, but bottom line, it's never fun to end the work day with issues.

I came home bringing with me the invincible baggage weighing heavily on my shoulders. Was I going to continue working? I decided I didn't want to mope around in front of my computer, staring listlessly at an excel sheet. I would rather start earlier than usual tomorrow than stay up late frustrated.

So I went down and bought a loaf of pesto bread and 4 gallon water. I walked around a bit at my corner block and I observed a lot of call center agents hanging out in the cluster of budget food stalls and small restaurants. As I observed the groups, big and small, I saw most of them were eating grilled or fried meat and washing them down with beer as they smoked their stress away. They seem to be enjoying the break from work, but I couldn't help but visualize what all that oil, alcohol, and smoke is doing to their bodies. It's no secret that call center lifestyle is not exactly the picture of healthy living.

At that moment, I was already littering my mind with garbage like anxiety and worries, so I didn't want to do the same to my body by giving in to comfort food like pizza and pringles (my vices).

As I walked home, I can't help but think about compassion. People should be more compassionate towards themselves. This will translate to being more compassionate towards others as well. I was mentally torturing myself since the work issues came in late during the day, but what good will the drama do to the situation anyway. The call center agents probably needed their well-deserved break from work as well, but it is not doing their mind and body good if they make their eating and smoking lifestyle a habit. I am not judging them, I just wish they can take a more disciplined route to reliving their stress. There is no going around the simple philosophy of garbage in-garbage out.


So I have to remember, it's okay to have mini-dramas, but not to make them a habit.

Cooking for One

I had Laing for dinner. I fried it with Olive oil to make it seem more exciting, like a dollop of character added to a black and white silent cartoon like Felix the Cat. Actually, I don't know why I compared Laing to old black and white animation.
All I'm saying is, I don't like cooking dinner. I'm not sure if I just don't like cooking or I don't like cooking for myself alone.



I live alone by the way, thus the cooking out of a can. It's the first time I can actually say I'm living alone. I have lived overseas a couple of times before, and I suppose technically you can call that living alone. I was away from most
things familiar and safe--most of all, I was away from family. But that kind of independence seemed forced; I had no choice but to live alone because I was based outside my country. This time though, I had a choice. I work 23 km from my house, but I can drive everyday. It's not like I'm not used to the hellish traffic of Manila (Ok, I lie, I still hate it to the bone). Still, I decided to move out. I now live in a studio condo near my work.

I'm basically adding an increase of 20% to my monthly expenses. I now have to commute like most people, I have no help to clean up my place, no one to cook my food, and I am apart from the best male in my life right now, my 5 year old Shitzu Frappy. But I've never been more content and peaceful whenever I come home. After I lock the door behind me in my small 30sq meter studio, I feel instantly calmer. I could almost imagine literally leaving my mental baggage outside the door, or even outside the condo building.

There is nothing like being alone that makes you find yourself more and more each day. So right now, I'm still finding out if I just don't like cooking, or if I don't like cooking only for myself. I'm sure I will know sometime soon.