Sanamagan!

I knew today wasn't just going to be my day when:

1. I woke up with a throbbing tootache and one hell of a nausea.

2. I found out the food I prepared for my Mamuy to take was left in the refrigerator, waiting for somebody to rescue it from leftover hell.

3. Even the note I left on the table (you know, the one telling her that I've cooked food for her and even included extras so she should just help herself and eat before she leaves 'coz I don't want her getting hungry while she's at work 'coz I love her so much?) was left unread.

4. On my way to the job interview (yes, improbable as it may seem, I had one!) the sole on my right shoe came undone. So I had to walk a little more careful or it might totally come off.

5. I was late as a result.

6. And because I was late, I was called last to be interviewed. Now, this would've been just fine by me, but when the airconditioning was at full-blast like it wanted to produce snow, I knew that I just had to tolerate all that numbness, shivering, and chattering of my teeth till the interview's over.

7. Right after the lunch break, (the battery of tests were stopped so that everyone could eat) I got a case of mild diarrhea, (from eating at that cheap, Cost-U-Less canteen) and had to rush inside the bathroom to take a dump. Thankfully, the bathroom was clean, had toilet paper, and had the soap dispenser full.

And the best of the worst things why I knew it wasn't going to be my day? (No, it wasn't the diarrhea)

7. I actually passed that interview that begs the question: why do you want to apply in a call center when the course you've finished is Physical Therapy? It turned out so well that the interviewer was so impressed with me he even gave me a chance when I didn't passed the listening exam (for the 2nd time!), and allowed me to take it for a third time.

Well, you ask, how does that translate into how I knew it was going to be "one of those days?"

Well, obviously, when your day isn't going that good, and suddenly something good happens, you know for a fact that you're fucked.

And like clockwork, calamity strikes when it's supposed to strike -- at the last hurdle of the job interview.

8. So there I was, sitting anxiously, waiting for the simulation call, (I've just passed all those grammar tests, iq tests, typing tests, and listening tests, all with flying colors; well with the exception for the last one) when the phone rang. So I pressed that button that they said I should press when the call comes in, delivered the spiel that was given in the manual, and spoke really well, until the "pretend" customer gave the reason why she was calling.

Now, understand, though I expected that the reason why the simulation call was done was to test the applicants on their ability to handle stress and pressure, I wasn't prepared for how I would actually react once the call was made. (I haven't really handled calls like that for long, so I really didn't know how I could've handled it properly. In fact, I haven't handled any calls like that since -- ever) I panicked, stammered, and basically made a fool out of myself.

So naturally, the one who tested me on that simulation call told me I don't have what it takes to be "one of them" yet. (she didn't really tell me in those exact words, but you know me, ever the sensitive guy, it just had to be EXACTLY what she meant) I persisted and asked to retake that simulation test, but she told me: sorry, but we don't do that. I even wanted to go so far as to pose an argument in my defense, but she never gave me that chance to cut in and speak as she just kept speaking and telling me that I should just wait till Monday, and that they'll probably call me if there's no one else left they could possibly hire, that I should just hope and cross my fingers and hope that one of the applicants have an accident, or contract some deadly disease out of South Africa, or God forbid, die, (don't raise your eyebrows! of course she didn't really tell me, again, in those same words. But you know me, guy with the ever active imagination...) and promptly stood up, indicating that her "precious time" talking to me, was up.

I kept smiling, all the way out of the building, and kept asking myself: Why? Why? Why did I put myself again in such a situation wherein somebody will try and tell me I'm no good? Why would I get my lazy butt off my most comfortable bed, forego that maddening urge to start writing my "dream screenplay" (which had been nagging me for days), and waste my whole day on a job search I know I'll never get anyway. (when has fate smiled on me on this one?) (laughed maybe. even sniggered maybe. or cackled. or stomped its feet, rolled on the floor, wept in such mirth it fell dead once it stopped)

And the simple answer to that one is:

I wanted to measure up to Mamuy. I wanted to be other than what I am. A bum. And a house-husband. I wanted to give it a shot and never think back for a moment and say: what-if?

The larger part of the scheme, and what really gets me, is that even our cat agrees that what happened to me was exactly what I deserved.

As soon as I arrived, feeling all gloomy and trying to be upbeat anyway, I picked up Ming-ming, (yeah, we named him the most original name we could think of) put him on the table, and played the "asking game" with him. Now, if you've watched "A Very Long Engagement," you'd know what I mean, and if you're one of the millions who didn't, well here's how it goes. The "player" asks a question he or she would like to have an answer to, and poses a situation that might or might not happen, and say: if this happens, this is what'll be the answer to my question. Like: if she really loves me, the sky would fall down, the earth would shake, and the kingdom, would come!

Well, me and Mamuy sort of developed a deviation to this kind of "silly" game. (what am I saying? of course it's silly! it's a game seeking an answer to a question based on stupid things happening! of course it's silly. and fun. you should try it) Instead of posing a situation that might or might not happen, we just ask Ming-ming the question, and if he thinks the aswer to the question is yes, he'll bite our hands. (and boy, does this cat love to bite!) And if he really thinks the answer is an emphatic NO, he'll look at you and give you a stare that says: would you really wanna know, punk?

So I played the "asking game" with Ming-ming and asked him if I should still hope that I'll be getting a call-back this Monday, when he turned his back on me, twisted his head to one side, and gave me a squinting look that said: (well, just ride on with me, hypothetically, I heard him say it) What? After all that piece you said knowing how fate fucks up your life, how you knew it wasn't your day, how you even felt the interviewer told you: it's either an applicant dead or none, how could you expect me to answer that truthfully, say yes, and still be the cutest, darndest cat I can ever be? No sir. No siree. Ming-ming is not a cat to trifle with the mysteries of life. You're on your own with this one, P-U-N-K-!

Well, gee, who am I to argue with a cat, who does nothing all day but sleep, lounge, eat, pee and shit under our cabinet with nothing but the pitch that: Humans don't own cats, cats own humans? Well, I'm certainly not the one to try.

So I decided to just continue with the list of why this day is NOT my day.

9. I switched on the light in our room and -- nothing. The damn guys living in the other room where the cicuit breaker for the lights was located, had again switched it off.

10. The money I'm supposed to win in the Lotto, still hasn't arrived...

11. The board exam I'm supposed to pass, still hasn't been given...

12. The publisher who's going to make me a best-selling author, hasn't been born...

13. And the God or fate (whichever the case may be) who'll finally take pity on me and give me a break, still hasn't stopped enjoying the "asking game" wherein they ask: what if we did this to Jao, or this, or that? Wouldn't it be so much fun to just watch him flounder and wonder why he gets all these kind of breaks?

Well, wouldn't I just be the luckiest guy there ever was if that ever happened, don't you think, PUNK? (Ouch! Ming-ming stop biting me! You're not the one I'm calling "punk." Seriously feline punk, you're not! Ow! Ow! Ow!)