a workaholic in progress

April 8, 2005 at 8:34 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I’m starting to like the feeling of having too much on my plate. Consider if you will, my schedule for the past few days and the upcoming weekend, with tasks done stricken out:

—————–

Wednesday
am – GMA rice program PR
12-5 caucus
– (get check from ******)
6 pm – documentation
eve- Runes, Closer

—————–

Thursday
9 am – labor
12 nn — boss presscon at PICC
PR?
(****** check)
pm – DepEd ARMMnomalies bullet points
documentation
Educ’n bullet points for talk
eve – GJeans

—————–

Friday
8 am – badminton with fay
10 am – meeting with emer
12 nn – office
– sectoral updates for boss
PR on VAT (tit-for-tat Palace)
PR on transpo
6 pm – pick up tickets (not my job!!)
now:
– documentation
Educ’n talk bullet points

—————–

Saturday
am – finish presentation
12 nn – go to Antipolo
1:30 – YS conference talk
eve – Runes? palm reading

—————–

Sunday
Council report, go to office
statement for wednesday hearing

—————–

Monday
am – jog at UP
9 am – follow up Philrice
Oversight – Talk to Tina
nn – talk with farfar re poll on awareness level of *bleep, bleep*

—————–

notes:

Marcos money hearing
– get numbers of NGOs
– follow-up transcript of previous hearing
– letter for Philrice
– briefer for boss

—————–

I knew I asked for more work, but this is getting ridiculous. But the awful truth is, I like my schedule. Going to and fro, sitting down in meetings, writing up reports and releases, drafting bullet points for some issues that we expect to work on in the next few weeks, etc. etc.

During last week’s preparations for THAT event with the cory speech and all, people were telling me I needed to relax. I needed to lighten up. But this is what happens when you’re juggling three jobs at the same time. And I am not the kind of person to brag, much less talk, about my job.

But i do get a sense of fulfillment doing this. I’m actually a part of something much much more than just myself. I have no time for anything except blogging and yahoo messenger (and an occassional trip to gloria jeans), and boy-fantasizing.

If my scheudle gets any more toxic than it already is, I think I’ll finally be able to say, with pride: “Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken? What’s love but a second-hand emotion?”.

I want to drown in my work. It feels so much better than drowning in unrequited affections.

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