Today, we did a lot of cleaning. Eleven offices moved out of our building and into the new city hall. That's about seven kilometers of distance between our offices. Which means that they can no longer be bothered by the cleaning up. As a result, we were left with three truckloads of trash and four cussing utility workers.
Looking at other people's trash, I wonder if we're ever going to really get down to the waste-segregation thing. True, there are trash cans marked "nabubulok" and "hindi nabubulok," but their contents are still a confusion of plastics and paper. Of bottles and left-over baon. Tucked in corners and little-known crevices are folded biscuit wrappers and stuff. It will probably take the same amount of time throwing them into the trash as the time it took to meticulously fold and insert them someplace. But I suppose the latter has much more appeal, huh? Surreptitious, for some, is far more thrilling than doing the obvious.
One other thing about the mountain of trash unceremoniously dumped on our department is that some of the things aren't really trash to begin with. It could be that the "movants" just got tired of the business of packing up and moving that they decided to give up midstream. From among the "legitimate" trash, we found boxfuls of printing paper, thick deposits of substance 20 bookpaper, fasteners, paper clips--our tax-paying money in the guise of office supplies. And to think that we had endless discussions with the Bids and Awards Committee as to the lack of supplies...
July 9, 2007
July 8, 2007
B- Traveler
My Lakbayan grade is B-!
How much of the Philippines have you visited? Find out at Lakbayan!
Created by Eugene Villar.P.S. The first time I took the test, my score was A+. As it turned out, I interchanged the columns. I guess I have to bone up on my domestic traveling skills, huh?
July 7, 2007
Here We Go Again
July is a crazy time when you're in government. In an election year, it is time for reinventing and "reinventorying". For terminating job orders and issuing new appointments. For revoking old office orders and issuing new ones.
Election-year July is when you see new faces widowing their way through old office routines. When college graduates are initially given tasks of opening doors, answering telephones, mixing instant coffee. When terminated contractuals join the throng of new hopefuls, wishing for another stab at employment.
In measurable terms, all these translate into around a hundred reams of bond paper. Fifty reams long bond for the inventory forms, for purchase requests, for the personal data sheet to be accomplished in "triplicate." Fifty reams short bond for application letters, office orders, office memoranda, resume, memorandum receipts, etc. etc.
On a non-election year, July is just as "paper consuming." It is when mid-year reports are due, when next year's budget has to be submitted, when outstanding cash advances have to be liquidated, when performance evaluation reports for the first half and performance targets for the next half have to reviewed by the Personnel Evaluation Review Committee.
Never mind if the PERC is non-functional, or if the reports are carefully calculated so that every employee merits a "very satisfactory" rating. Never mind if the computations don't tally. There is, after all, the Productivity Incentive Bonus in exchange for the three copies of four back-to-back pages that takes the better part of two working days to accomplish.
Needless to say, exasperation fills the bureaucratic air every July. This is especially so in the case of Officemate A, who has recently decided that government work is not for her. In the process of "clearing," she found out that she has unliquidated cash advances for travels and seminars. To settle these, she needs tickets, official receipts and certificates of appearances.
Now, Officemate A really attended these seminars. Problem is, all her supporting documents were destroyed along with the old city hall.
"Why don't you just tell them that you lost everything?" someone clueless as to the bureaucratic paper trail asked.
"Because they want you to lie," was the ready answer. Because the rules and regulations say so and not a word more. And because government won't be government without the "here we go again" syndrome that is the theme every July.
I wonder: was Sisyphus--he who was forever condemned to roll a rock uphill--a bureaucrat?
Election-year July is when you see new faces widowing their way through old office routines. When college graduates are initially given tasks of opening doors, answering telephones, mixing instant coffee. When terminated contractuals join the throng of new hopefuls, wishing for another stab at employment.
In measurable terms, all these translate into around a hundred reams of bond paper. Fifty reams long bond for the inventory forms, for purchase requests, for the personal data sheet to be accomplished in "triplicate." Fifty reams short bond for application letters, office orders, office memoranda, resume, memorandum receipts, etc. etc.
On a non-election year, July is just as "paper consuming." It is when mid-year reports are due, when next year's budget has to be submitted, when outstanding cash advances have to be liquidated, when performance evaluation reports for the first half and performance targets for the next half have to reviewed by the Personnel Evaluation Review Committee.
Never mind if the PERC is non-functional, or if the reports are carefully calculated so that every employee merits a "very satisfactory" rating. Never mind if the computations don't tally. There is, after all, the Productivity Incentive Bonus in exchange for the three copies of four back-to-back pages that takes the better part of two working days to accomplish.
Needless to say, exasperation fills the bureaucratic air every July. This is especially so in the case of Officemate A, who has recently decided that government work is not for her. In the process of "clearing," she found out that she has unliquidated cash advances for travels and seminars. To settle these, she needs tickets, official receipts and certificates of appearances.
Now, Officemate A really attended these seminars. Problem is, all her supporting documents were destroyed along with the old city hall.
"Why don't you just tell them that you lost everything?" someone clueless as to the bureaucratic paper trail asked.
"Because they want you to lie," was the ready answer. Because the rules and regulations say so and not a word more. And because government won't be government without the "here we go again" syndrome that is the theme every July.
I wonder: was Sisyphus--he who was forever condemned to roll a rock uphill--a bureaucrat?
July 6, 2007
Thursday Thirteen # 3: Coffee Quotes
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For the 100th edition of Thursday Thirteen (and my third post) I thought of putting together two of my favorites: coffee and quotes. Here are 13 coffee quotes that will (hopefully) fuel warm, heady coffee-clouded thoughts. 1. Coffee smells like freshly ground heaven--Jessi Lane Adams 2. I had some dreams; they were clouds in my coffee--Carly Simon 3. I have measured out my life with coffee spoons--T.S.Eliot 4. Actually, this seems to be the basic need of the human heart in nearly every great crisis - a good hot cup of coffee--Alexander King 5. Coffee makes us severe, and grave and philosophical--Jonathan Swift 6. Without my morning coffee I'm just like a dried-up piece of roast goat--Johann Sebastian Bach 7. Black as the devil, Hot as hell. Pure as an angel, Sweet as love--Perigord 8. No one can understand the truth until he drinks of coffee's frothy goodness--Sheik Abd-al Kadir 9. The morning cup of coffee has an exhilaration about it which the cheering influence of the afternoon or evening cup of tea cannot be expected to reproduce--Oliver Wendell Holmes 10. I believe humans get a lot done, not because we're smart, but because we have thumbs so we can make coffee--Flash Rosenberg 11. Coffee, the finest organic suspension ever devised--Star Trek: Voyager 12. He was my cream and I was his coffee--and when you poured us together, it was something--Josephine Baker 13. Given enough coffee, I could rule the world--Anonymous Have a great brew! |
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July 5, 2007
Life Begins at 40...
Patrick, my high-school classmate, is getting married on Saturday. When he made the announcement three months ago, our high-school egroup suddenly came alive. Reactions ranged from "why only now?" to "who finally snagged you?" to "it's about time." Two crossing-Continents chat sessions and countless email threads later, one thing became clear: 40 is just as good an age as any for starting something.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude when he was 40. At 40, Albert Einstein gained scientific renown for his theory of relativity. Somewhere around forty was when Mother Teresa started Missionaries of Charity, Madonna came out with "Ray of Light" and Jane fonda started her workout mania. Nicolas Cage became a first-time father at 40.
For some, though, 40 is "old." It may be because the marrying age around here is "just a little after college," sometimes even in college. Given such, the equations can be astounding. While most of our batchmates, for example, are grappling with the reality of raising teen-agers, Patrick and his Vivian won't be there until 2021, at the earliest. Even as Patrick and Vivian are tying the knot, others are untying theirs. And while Patrick and Vivian are reading up on Dr. Spock, others have enough in them to write their own parenting books.
But "old" isn't something you'd associate with Patrick and Vivian and all the others who have the courage to start new adventures. Even if the adventure is, as the invitation says, "growing old together."
So here's to you, Patrick and Vivian. May the road to "partnerhood" at forty be just as beautiful...
Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude when he was 40. At 40, Albert Einstein gained scientific renown for his theory of relativity. Somewhere around forty was when Mother Teresa started Missionaries of Charity, Madonna came out with "Ray of Light" and Jane fonda started her workout mania. Nicolas Cage became a first-time father at 40.
For some, though, 40 is "old." It may be because the marrying age around here is "just a little after college," sometimes even in college. Given such, the equations can be astounding. While most of our batchmates, for example, are grappling with the reality of raising teen-agers, Patrick and his Vivian won't be there until 2021, at the earliest. Even as Patrick and Vivian are tying the knot, others are untying theirs. And while Patrick and Vivian are reading up on Dr. Spock, others have enough in them to write their own parenting books.
But "old" isn't something you'd associate with Patrick and Vivian and all the others who have the courage to start new adventures. Even if the adventure is, as the invitation says, "growing old together."
So here's to you, Patrick and Vivian. May the road to "partnerhood" at forty be just as beautiful...
July 3, 2007
New Beginnings
New beginnings. That's the phrase of the day. I must have heard it a hundred--make that a thousand--times today that it's already losing its magic.
Before today, I associated "new beginnings" with Closing Time and PowerBooks. I particularly liked the line from the song that capped many a late '90s night at the mall: "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
Before today, I associated "new beginnings" with Closing Time and PowerBooks. I particularly liked the line from the song that capped many a late '90s night at the mall: "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
Today, however, as I sat through opening and closing remarks and the endless messages in between, the phrase has taken on not-so-positive notes. As if the past was so bad it might as well be erased. As if one can go barging into the future without considering the lessons of the past.
I understand that new management means new programs and new thrusts. I know that there's inexplicable thrill in fresh starts, such as when I write on a new notebook, or open the pages of a new book, or open new doors. But to brag about "new beginnings" when you know that it's just a turn of the wheel? That in no time, it will be back to the same old grind? Different times and different players, perhaps. But the same old story all over again.
Ahh, leave it to politics to take the newness out of "new" beginnings...
July 2, 2007
Updates
The past week has been a blur. Between rushing and dashing, between beating deadlines and meeting schedules, all my blog ideas just plain disappeared. Early this week, I meant to blog about the view from my backyard and about how this office wrap-up thing is driving me crazy. I mind-sketched ideas for Thursday Thirteen and I so looked forward to Friday's Feast.
Alas, intentions and ideas do not thread words and sentences into a post. To blog, I need to think. Then write. But since thinking requires energy--and I am just so drained at the moment--I'll skip the thinking part and just ramble on.
Here's a slice of life from my little pocket of earth:
Monday, while I was silently berating myself for not sorting my clutter when there was still time, I got a tempting job offer. I looked at the filing cabinets that needed my attention, at the files that needed to be put away and I thought I could walk away from them all. That is, after getting three speeches done. At home: It's back to the '80s as the precious two-year-old discovered Vanilla Ice and "Ice Ice Baby." The kid sure dances funny. I swear, I laughed so hard I got teary.
Tuesday, I crossed out speech numbers one and two off my to-do list. Even as I did, rush-rush tasks cropped up, and I had little time to get to work on my clearances. Much less think about moving. At home: I heard the kid scolding her doll: "Time out ka sa crib. Pasaway ka kasi." Uh oh. A case of "My Mother, Myself"?
Friday was a no-work day in Sorsogon, as it was the feast of Sts. Peter & Paul. Fiestas are still the big things that they were, and for once, traffic was really bad, with people packing the streets. In the afternoon, we took Gianna and Sam to the park. I wanted to buy cotton candy to complete the fiesta picture, but the mommy in me said no. So much for the fiestas of my youth...
Saturday, I woke up really early for the city day mass. Then, it was off to the capitol for the oath-taking, to the clinic for Gianna's checkup (she must have taken something that didn't quite agree with her tummy, and she had runny poo-poos), to a friend's house for lunch and to the office for the final fixing up. Whew!
Today, I thought I could breathe easy. And for a while, I did. Gianna had clean diapers all through the day, and despite our little spats, things went well. At the chapel for the 5pm mass, though, she tripped on something and took a fall. It wasn't serious enough to warrant a trip to the ER but it was serious enough to merit an ice pack, which we got from the convent. Three minutes later, she was running like crazy again, making me one crazy mom. :)
Alas, intentions and ideas do not thread words and sentences into a post. To blog, I need to think. Then write. But since thinking requires energy--and I am just so drained at the moment--I'll skip the thinking part and just ramble on.
Here's a slice of life from my little pocket of earth:
Monday, while I was silently berating myself for not sorting my clutter when there was still time, I got a tempting job offer. I looked at the filing cabinets that needed my attention, at the files that needed to be put away and I thought I could walk away from them all. That is, after getting three speeches done. At home: It's back to the '80s as the precious two-year-old discovered Vanilla Ice and "Ice Ice Baby." The kid sure dances funny. I swear, I laughed so hard I got teary.
Tuesday, I crossed out speech numbers one and two off my to-do list. Even as I did, rush-rush tasks cropped up, and I had little time to get to work on my clearances. Much less think about moving. At home: I heard the kid scolding her doll: "Time out ka sa crib. Pasaway ka kasi." Uh oh. A case of "My Mother, Myself"?
Wednesday, I walked an officemate through a panic attack. Her filing system was a lot more disorganized than mine, her lovelife was "complicated, as usual" and her desk was a not-so-happy mess. At home: The kid's fascination with Maria has reached "imaginary friend" proportions. She "texts" Maria, she talks on the phone with Maria and she asks me to leave a space on the bed for Maria...
Thursday, I finally turned in speech number 3. I also (finally) decided to stick it out at the city hall. I just realized that for most of my working life, I have been following an invisible template: when the boss leaves, I leave as well. I'm no longer the footloose and fancy-free me of ages ago, and I figured it's time I settled for some permanence. At home: My decision to stay on has a lot to do with the little girl. True, the paycheck would be an improvement, but then it means I would have to cut down on the bonding time.Friday was a no-work day in Sorsogon, as it was the feast of Sts. Peter & Paul. Fiestas are still the big things that they were, and for once, traffic was really bad, with people packing the streets. In the afternoon, we took Gianna and Sam to the park. I wanted to buy cotton candy to complete the fiesta picture, but the mommy in me said no. So much for the fiestas of my youth...
Saturday, I woke up really early for the city day mass. Then, it was off to the capitol for the oath-taking, to the clinic for Gianna's checkup (she must have taken something that didn't quite agree with her tummy, and she had runny poo-poos), to a friend's house for lunch and to the office for the final fixing up. Whew!
Today, I thought I could breathe easy. And for a while, I did. Gianna had clean diapers all through the day, and despite our little spats, things went well. At the chapel for the 5pm mass, though, she tripped on something and took a fall. It wasn't serious enough to warrant a trip to the ER but it was serious enough to merit an ice pack, which we got from the convent. Three minutes later, she was running like crazy again, making me one crazy mom. :)
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