Sick Week

Starting last Tuesday I was already not feeling well. In fact I had fever already. Wednesday came and it got worse. However, like what I kept telling Jasmin, as a professional agent, ehem, I should report to work which I did. I was moving and walking really slow because I was feeling weak. I couldn’t even eat right. When I took the Raymond bus with a bus number 2088 and plate number EVL991 in Turbina, I thought things would go smoothly that all I needed to do was to enjoy the rest of the trip until we reached Mantrade. However, as if being sick was not enough torture that I still forced myself to report to work, somewhere in SLEX, in Shell Station, the Raymond bus stopped which at first I thought it would be just for thirty minutes the maximum. Surprisingly, hours passed by and we stayed there waiting for another bus to transfer to. And thanks a lot to whomever those soulless thieves of my cellphone that I had no way of contacting anyone that I might be late or something like that. To cut it short, I came to work late for twenty-six minutes. Just four more minutes away from receiving a memo. After all, I was still lucky.

I was considering taking a serious rest on Thursday, (Is there such a thing not-serious rest?), following what Jasmin told me. However, Ms. Shee, I know that her concern was my incentives, asked me if I could go on half-day instead. I thought of it and, yes, I decided to go on half-day instead. Then I had to wake up around 1AM to prepare myself to work because I needed to leave the house at 2AM for my traffic allowance. I needed to take my first call at 5AM. To some point, I felt stupid for going on half-day because it seemed like there was not much difference between going on whole-day and half-day except for one thing, the latter hurts my record.

When I saw that Calamba Bus in Calamba-Crossing going to Lawton, I thought my luck was returning to me. I took the bus. We had to have a stop-over in Alabang which was okay to me. At first, it was really okay to me. When it felt like an hour had already passed by, I started to panic. I couldn’t afford to be late again. My impatience pissed me off. I approached the driver who was so calm and so happy having a chat with the bus inspector. As if they didn’t care if one or two of their passengers were running late. Another passenger was getting so upset already. And you know what, the bus steward was even madder than me or than us? It was as if it was our fault that we would be late for work? Like he was telling us that if we wanted to be really early, we should have got up much earlier than that. Excuse me, I woke up 1AM and you’re telling me it was my fault? That I missed their first trip? Don’t give me that c***. Sorry, I am still pissed off. And I did let that bus steward know that I was not happy about it. I was not letting him to win a bit, and there, the driver finally surrendered and took his seat. You have no idea how hard to hide a smile of victory in front of your…now I am searching for the right term…enemies? Yeah, that was difficult. When I reached Burgundy Tower, the clock showed 4AM. Err, please accept my sorry. Just didn’t want to be late.