In Absentia

In the three days I was absent from work, I got in touch with myself and the many books stacked at home. Rummaging through the dusty shelf only made the cold worse, but I knew I had to, at least, do something productive. So, there I was, staying away from the computer for a while, the device where, probably, emanates all my life's ills, and curling up in bed, reuniting myself with the hobby I most favored before my scheduled was injected with reality.

Reading.

I finished Sue Miller's compilation of short stories, including one which was made into a film, Inventing the Abbotts, and wondered why the movie did no justice to the print version. There was two of Coelho's book, Veronika Decides to Die and By the River Piedra I Sat and Wept, which, I have to thank Angel for freeing me from Kundera's pseudo-political sways in Unbearable Lightness of Being (which, I must admit, has become unbearable in the long run). There were also those soft files I downloaded from eons ago and compiled into my trusty laptop -- Butch Dalisay, HP Lovecraft, more Coelho.

Apart from such, my thoughts grazed upon the projects I left hanging just so I could have a so-called life. I began on each one painstakingly and ended up with 3 essays for submission, one short story and a couple potential articles. My absence also allowed me to work on extra chapters of Joey's novel, realizing that I was more critical and creative in moments where I could hardly breathe. (Hmm, maybe that could work with... ah... nevermind.)

Was it blessing, you may ask? In part, it was. The infection came with a nasty whip ordering me to stop thinking about the things around me and cease feeling too bogged down and busy. At first, I was extremely worried that there might be tasks unfinished or my virtual work desk be piled with deadlines when I return. After a while, I began dismissing the pressure and giving in to self-indulgence.

The house looks a lot different when I'm not rushing from one point to another. And, weird as it may seem, the office now looks more inviting. As if I were a traveller lost at sea and majorly elated upon the sight of land from afar. I took longer to take baths. It also gave me more time to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how that girl staring back was able to handle the comings and goings. I began noticing how my closet was in such a disarray. I saw how my toenails were in dire need of trimming.

Maybe I should get sick more often.