Life, In Draft

Hello. It’s me again. Wow, my last post was in March, and so much has happened since then.

The past few months have been good. I actually had two jobs, although one ended last June because the company is a start-up and we were asked to pause work for a while due to the lack of tasks. Even so, I’m grateful because it gave me additional income. I was able to help pay for my sisters’ remaining school balances and even helped enroll my youngest sister.

Sometimes, I second-guess myself when it comes to helping. There are moments when I feel like my efforts aren’t appreciated or that what I give is never enough. Maybe they do appreciate it—they just don’t know how to show it. What frustrates me is that I keep reminding them to pay things like tuition monthly so that by the end of the school year, there won’t be any huge balances left to worry about. Money isn’t easy to earn, and it definitely doesn’t appear the moment you need it. Despite all the frustration and the weight of the financial responsibility, I still choose to help because I care. I guess, deep down, I just want to feel appreciated.

These days, I’m the one paying the household bills—water and electricity—on top of my own personal expenses. I’m still thankful for the stable job I have now because it allows me to save while still providing for my family. I even bought a 65-inch TV for our home because I wanted everyone to enjoy watching together. I got it at a huge discount, so I’m really happy with that purchase.

Oh, and I remembered my aunt—a family friend I stayed with in Tagum. She recently came here to settle some payments for their family funeral lot. Since she’s already widowed and no longer has a steady source of income, I offered to pay for her three-night hotel stay. It was my way of thanking her for opening her home to me for those months.

Our relationship wasn’t always easy. There were times when I felt like I was only valued when I could be of benefit, and I carried that hurt with me. But I also know she has gone through so much after losing her husband. She lost not only her partner but also the family’s provider. I realized that I didn’t want my actions to depend on how I was treated. I wanted them to reflect the kind of person I choose to be. So I helped. I also treated her to dinner and bought pasalubong for her sisters, who were kind to me, because I wanted them to know that I still remember the goodness they showed me. Kindness doesn’t always come back the way we expect it to, but I still want it to remain part of who I am.

A lot has happened, and I can only remember the moments that stayed with me the most.

My firstborn nephew started going to school. He’s only three years old, so he doesn’t always participate in the activities, but that’s completely understandable. He’s still developing and is easily distracted. I’m so proud of him because he tries, and sometimes he does participate—you just have to be patient with him. His younger brother, my one-year-old nephew, has also become such a little troublemaker. I love both of them as if they were my own children. I miss them every single day, even though they can be incredibly loud most of the time. Haha.

Now it’s July—my birth month—and I honestly can’t stop spending. I’ve been buying clothes and things I’ve wanted for a long time.

July 7 was my birthday. After finishing my graveyard shift, I slept for a few hours in the morning. Later that day, I took my sister out for lunch, and we tried a Mexican restaurant for the first time. Afterward, we went to Fort Pilar to offer Mass and give thanks for all the blessings I’ve continuously received, especially for my career and the stability I have now.

After Fort Pilar, we bought some shrimp for a simple family gathering at my sister’s house because that’s where my nephews were, and I really wanted to spend my birthday with them. My eldest sister also came home, and it made me happy to have everyone together.

Originally, I wanted to celebrate at the beach and treat everyone to lechon, but the weather wasn’t cooperating. So we kept it simple instead. Honestly, we’ve never been the type to celebrate birthdays in a grand way. We’ve always been content with good food and simply being together as a family, and for me, that was more than enough.

A week later, I finally treated some of the friends I met through my aunt in Tagum. They’ve been genuinely good friends to me, so I invited them to dinner at the same Mexican restaurant. I also brought my mom and my two younger sisters with me. I had been telling them that we’d eat out together someday, and I was happy I was finally able to make it happen. After dinner, I treated everyone to Ilao-Ilao yogurt.

I honestly didn’t expect anything in return, but they surprised me with birthday gifts. As someone who rarely receives presents, that simple gesture meant so much to me. I opened them while we were waiting for our Ilao-Ilao orders, and I genuinely loved everything they gave me—a set of cute dog stickers and pins, a JW Anderson × Uniqlo long-sleeved polo, and a Sunnies tumbler personalized with my nickname. They really didn’t have to, but the fact that they thought of me made me feel seen and appreciated. I’m truly grateful, and it’s a memory I’ll always treasure.

I don’t know if it’s just the Cancer in me, but birthdays always make me a little emotional and reflective. Maybe it’s because another year has passed, and I can’t help but look back on everything that has happened.

And of course, I finally bought myself a new turntable—a gift to myself. It had been on my wishlist for so long because I missed playing my vinyl records. My old Garrard turntable stopped working because of my own mistake—I accidentally plugged a 110V unit into a 220V outlet. I can be so forgetful sometimes.

Aside from the turntable, I bought some new clothes, thrifted a few branded pieces, and treated myself to the Adidas Taekwondo shoes and a pair of Veja Volley sneakers—both of which I’d wanted for a while. I also ordered a HIRONO × Kodak plushie.

I even bought myself a Fuggler plush and a Fuggler keychain for my youngest sister because I knew she wanted one too. We opened them together at home and couldn’t stop laughing at how funny and oddly adorable they looked.

Maybe I want to start collecting Fugglers—not because I need more things, but because they remind me of the child I once was. Growing up, we didn’t have many toys, and I rarely got the ones I dreamed of having. In a way, collecting them feels like I’m healing that little part of me. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

Those were all gifts to myself after months of working hard. And this month will be the last of my splurging—I promise.

As happy as these purchases make me, I also feel guilty sometimes. I worry that I’m spending too much. I do have some savings now, but I know I need to be more disciplined. I need to control my spending and focus on saving.

My goals for this year are bigger than temporary happiness. I want to build a bungalow on the lot I own, upgrade my phone, buy a new camera to replace the one I had to let go of before, and continue building my emergency fund and savings for the future.

Looking back, I realize how much life has changed in just a few months. There were responsibilities I never imagined carrying, bills I never thought I’d be paying, and moments when I questioned whether I was doing enough. But there were also quiet victories—being able to support my family, choosing kindness even when it wasn’t always returned, being surrounded by people who showed kindness back, spoiling myself once in a while, and slowly building a life that younger me could only dream of.

For the first time in a long time, life isn’t just about surviving. It’s about slowly building the life I’ve always hoped to have while remembering where I came from. I’m still learning that it’s okay to enjoy the fruits of my hard work, as long as I don’t lose sight of the future I’m working toward.

It’s been months since I last wrote here. I think the last time was when I got the job. Life moved so fast after that.

December 2025 really was my greatest plot twist. I stepped into a completely new industry — the mortgage world — and became a Capital Market Analyst. At first, it was overwhelming. I had no background in it and it wasn’t the usual corporate environment I was used to. But slowly, I found my rhythm. And today, I can honestly say I’m proud of myself. I’m grateful for this job. The pay is good, the work is steady, and being paid every two weeks has helped me slowly settle my debts.

More than anything, I’m thankful that I can provide for my family. I’m not married, so helping out at home matters a lot to me. Being able to share in the bills, buy things we need, and even reward myself once in a while each month feels like a quiet victory.

I’m also back home in Zamboanga now. Working from home, in my own hometown, feels like such a blessing.

The first few months, I stayed at my sister’s house. Partly because we didn’t have internet at home yet, which I needed for work, but also because I wanted to spend time with my baby nephews. I missed them so much when I was in Tagum. Those little moments with them reminded me why being close to family matters.

Then in the second week of February, I went to Cebu with my mom for a check-up. I found a lump on my left breast — big and very palpable — and I was honestly scared it might be something serious. I wanted my mom with me because sometimes when you’re dealing with health worries, you just need your mom beside you. I also wanted to treat her to a small Cebu trip at the same time.

The OBGYN initially alarmed me when she suggested surgery and referred me to a breast surgeon, but first she asked for a breast ultrasound. During the ultrasound, the radiologist pressed quite hard on my right side and it hurt, but I didn’t complain. After the test, my mom and I just went to eat lunch while waiting for the results.

When the results came, I went to see the breast surgeon. That conversation brought me so much relief. The lump wasn’t cancer. It’s a fibroadenoma. There are cysts too — about 5 cm on the left side, which I can feel, and another 4.4 cm on the right which I can’t feel. They’re liquid-filled. She said surgery isn’t necessary and that aspiration is optional if I want them drained. For now, I haven’t decided yet. But just hearing that it wasn’t cancer felt like a huge weight lifted from my chest.

Now it’s March, and I’m back home.

We finally have internet installed, so I’m working from our own house now. I bought myself an office desk and an ergonomic chair because my back had been hurting for months since I left Tagum last December. It’s better now — the pain still visits sometimes, but it’s manageable.

I also turned my parents’ room into my office so I could have a quiet place to work and focus. I’m really grateful they allowed that. My dad is even helping with the renovation. And yes — we’re good now. I don’t hold grudges anymore. Life feels lighter when you let those things go.

I also decided to repaint the house — both interior and exterior. It feels like a new chapter, and somehow the house deserves to look like one too.

When I step back and look at everything, I realize how much God has been providing for me. Work, health, family, a home, and the chance to rebuild my life slowly but surely.

Thank you, Lord. Truly.

And thank you, self.

You’re surviving. You’re working hard. You’re building something again.

Just keep going. Keep hustling. One quiet blessing at a time.

Life Lesson:

Sometimes the biggest blessings arrive disguised as uncertainty. A new job that feels overwhelming. A health scare that forces you to pause. A change of home that pushes you to start over again.

But when you keep moving forward — even with fear, even with doubt — things slowly unfold the way they’re meant to.

This season reminded me that provision doesn’t always come in loud, dramatic ways. Sometimes it shows up quietly: a stable job, a healing diagnosis, parents who make space for you, a desk in a small room where you build your future one task at a time.

I’m learning that survival is not something to be ashamed of. It’s something to be proud of.

As this year comes to a close, I find myself looking back with a quiet kind of gratitude. It wasn’t an easy year. It didn’t unfold the way I imagined, and there were moments when I felt lost, uncertain, and stretched beyond what I thought I could handle. I began this year unemployed, carrying fear and questions I didn’t have answers to yet.

Somewhere in between waiting and hoping, life asked me to move—away from home, away from comfort, into unfamiliar spaces where I had to learn how to stand on my own again. It was uncomfortable, lonely at times, but it taught me resilience. It taught me that survival doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes, it’s quiet. Sometimes, it’s simply choosing to continue.

Now, I end this year back in my hometown, working from home, with a heart that feels lighter and steadier. It feels like coming full circle—not because everything is perfect, but because I am more grounded than I was before. I see now that this was a plot twist only God could write. One I prayed for, waited for, and trusted Him with even when I felt unseen.

I am deeply thankful for the people who walked with me through this year—the ones who stayed, who helped me stand back up when I was tired, and who reminded me that I wasn’t meant to carry everything alone.

As I step into a new year, I do so with humility, gratitude, and quiet determination. I will do my best to rebuild, to stay faithful in the small things, and to honor the opportunity God has placed before me. This year was not about arriving—it was about surviving, trusting, and becoming.

My heart is full in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. The kind that comes when prayers finally land softly as answers.

I got hired.

Full-time.

A real, solid win.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed this until the tears pushed their way up. God is so, so good.

For months, I’ve been in survival mode — working nights, stretching every peso, trying to stay steady even when life felt like it was tilting. I’ve had days when I questioned myself, days when I felt like the world was moving without me, days when I thought I was running out of chances. But here I am, holding proof that God never forgot me. He was working in the quiet, even when I couldn’t see it.

This job feels like a door finally opening after knocking for so long. A whisper from God saying, “Anak, I’ve got you. Keep going.” And I will. Because this is the lift I prayed for. This is the breath I needed. This is Him making a way, again.

I can’t wait to get back on my feet. To feel stable. To rebuild what was shaken. To breathe without fear. Today is a reminder that I’m not stuck — I’m just being guided.

Thank You, Lord, for this win.

Thank You for seeing me.

Thank You for carrying me through the nights I didn’t talk about.

Today, I’m choosing to celebrate. To be grateful. To cry happy tears because they’re finally here.

This is my win.

This is God’s goodness.

And this is just the beginning. 🤍🙏🏻

December 4, 2025

Today felt like a chapter I didn’t expect — a soft, trembling moment of hope after months of struggling, praying, and trying not to drown in worries. I finally got a reply from my former employer… eight days late, but somehow, exactly when I needed it. I reached out last November 12, desperate for any chance to stabilize my life again. I honestly thought he wouldn’t respond at all — just like the last time. But on November 30, when I finally checked WhatsApp, there it was. His message. His response. His help.

My heart raced. It felt like a door cracked open after being shut for so long.

He said he’s working with a new company now and that they’re looking for someone who can zip files and help with admin tasks. Not a grand job, not some dream position — but a chance… a real chance. And right now, that’s gold. I replied immediately, asked if the job was still available, and somehow everything moved fast from there. He connected me to Jack, the hiring manager, asked for my email and my rate. He even recommended me personally. He didn’t have to — but he did.

And today… I had the interview with the Loan Director at 5:30 AM.

It wasn’t one of those draining interviews with impossible questions. It was calm, conversational. He asked about my former employer, the tasks, the tools, and I answered honestly — about the work I’ve done, the file management tools I can use, my diligence with details and confidentiality. I told him I’m willing to learn. He explained the company, their processes, their clients. I asked questions too — the kind I was proud of, the kind that made me feel like I belonged there.

It ended well. Really well.

After the call, I updated the HR manager. Then messaged my former employer. He asked how it went, and I told him. And when he said “Yes, because I’ve been pushing for you for this role” — my heart softened. Someone was rooting for me. Someone believed in my work ethic enough to fight for my spot.

He even mentioned that maybe I could start on December 9. Training from 9–5, then later I can adjust to my preferred schedule. It’s not final yet — they’re still checking things internally — but just hearing that possibility felt like a miracle of its own.

Lord, I really hope this is it.

I’m not asking for luxury. I’m just asking for a stable income so I can breathe again, pay my debts, survive without constantly choosing which bill to let go of this month. My current job is something I’m grateful for, but it’s not enough. I’m tired of patching my life together with scraps and prayers.

I really need this.

I’m really hoping this is the plot twist You’ve been preparing all along — the one that will help me stand up again, rebuild again, feel safe again.

I’m leaving this in Your hands.

Please, let this work in my favor.

And if it’s meant for me… let the confirmation come soon.

November 30, 2025

Today felt like a slow shift — the kind that doesn’t look dramatic on the outside, but inside, it feels like a door finally unlocked a little.

I finally saw the message from my former employer, eight days late. And somehow, the timing still worked. He told me he’s now with another company, and they’re looking for someone to handle admin tasks. It’s not glamorous, not some high-level role… but honestly, I don’t need glamorous right now. I just need stability. I need a job that pays enough so I can breathe again.

I replied and shared my preferred hourly rate and schedule. It felt vulnerable, almost like exposing how much I need this. How much I want to get back on my feet. But he said he would let their company know — and that gave me a tiny spark of hope I didn’t realize I was craving.

My debts have been weighing on me. I think about the people who helped me, the money I owe, and how much I want to give it all back as soon as possible. I want to be responsible. I want to stand up again without feeling like I’m always behind on life.

I’m nervous about interviews — I always feel like I forget everything when someone’s asking me questions. But a part of me is praying that maybe, just maybe, this company won’t require a big interview. Or if they do, that I’ll find the words. That I won’t shrink in the moment.

Still, tonight, I’m choosing hope. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s quiet.

I’m trying. And somehow, that feels like enough for now.

My Prayer Tonight:

Lord, I come to You tired, but hopeful.

You know my needs — the bills piling up, the debts I want to repay, the weight I’ve been carrying quietly.

Please open the right doors for me.

If this admin role is Your provision, let it unfold smoothly.

Give me favor, give me calm, and guide every step of this process.

Help me trust that You see me, even in this season of quiet survival.

Thank You for every little chance, every small hope, every breath of strength You give.

I place tomorrow in Your hands.

Amen.

Quiet survival.

Some days, the weight feels heavier than usual. I’ve been trying to stretch what little I have — a few bills left, some faith, and hope that maybe the system will show a bit of mercy. But life doesn’t always bend that way.

My Home Credit account is on the edge of termination — four months of interest due, no repayment plan allowed. I explained my situation again and again, told them about the company shutdown, how I’ve been jobless, how the new work I found barely covers the basics. Still, no exception. Just policy. Just debt.

I paid ₱2,000 today — not because I had it to spare, but because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing more ground. Maybe it buys me time. Maybe not. I don’t know anymore. I even messaged my former employer, asking if there’s any chance to work again. I told him I can handle admin tasks, anything really. If he doesn’t reply, that’s okay. At least I tried.

I’m tired. My sisters can’t help; they’re surviving their own storms. My friend who used to help has already done more than enough. I don’t even have the heart to ask again.

So I do the only thing left — I pray. That somehow, God sees this effort, these small payments, these quiet acts of endurance. That He still sends help, or strength, or both. Because giving up isn’t an option.

October 10, 2025

That day felt heavy in so many ways. I received sad news about Bubbles — the dog of my family friend — passing away. Not long after, an earthquake struck the city I’m in. It lasted for more than 30 seconds, with strong aftershocks that followed. I immediately checked on people I know nearby, called my friend from Cebu, and even my cousin from Cebu also called to check on me. It felt nice to be remembered in the middle of all that chaos.

My aunt (a close family friend) reached out and asked if I wanted to sleep over at their place for safety, since the tremors wouldn’t stop. I packed a few things and stayed there for three days. We tried to stay alert, ready to run outside anytime, because the ground just kept shaking. One night, another strong quake hit — we all rushed outside and stayed on the ground while the house trembled. It was scary, but thankfully, we were all safe — even the dogs.

That Sunday, I attended a Simbalay with them. We had lunch there and went straight back afterward. Later that day, my aunt also received the image of Mama Mary for the neighborhood prayer. The next afternoon, the local team came again to pray, and we prepared snacks. It was comforting somehow — being surrounded by people, praying, finding peace amid all the shaking.

After a few days, I went back to my apartment. Aftershocks were still being felt, but not as strong. I’m grateful that I’m safe — still a bit alert, but calmer now. It’s strange how fear and faith can exist in the same space… yet maybe that’s what keeps us grounded when everything else is moving.

Reflection:

It was a rainy Sunday, but thankfully it stopped around 2 p.m. I decided to visit our family friends, and before heading there, I stopped by a dessert shop to pick up some muffins for them. Not sure if they were yummy, but hey — it’s the thought that counts.

When I arrived, I first went to Tita Amor’s house to drop off the muffins and shared some the helpers as well. Tiny handed me a cup of hot tsokolate — perfect for the gloomy weather. After that, I went over to Tita Jane’s place and gave her the muffins I brought. I was actually waiting for the langka (haha) — that’s really what I came for — and she gave me a big slice! I couldn’t finish it all, so I took the rest home. The dogs greeted me too, wagging their tails like they remembered me.

We chatted about random things — mostly about their health and daily stories — before I went back to Tita Amor’s place. She wasn’t around because she was attending the wake of her brother-in-law’s mother, so it was just me, Tiny, and the dogs hanging out. Tiny and I played on the PS5 (Tekken story mode), then switched to Beyblades — I won three times, and she scored once!

After playing, we got hungry, so we ate. I finished two fried fish without rice, and the dogs started reaching their paws toward my thighs — asking for some too. Of course, I shared a bit. How cute, haha.

After that, I decided to head home. Tita Jane’s helper helped me get a ride back to my apartment.

Today, I was craving pasta, so I went to the grocery store to grab the ingredients. I also passed by the home section and ended up buying some new plates and cutlery I needed. It was scorching hot outside, so even though my place was just a five-minute walk away, I decided to ride a motorbike instead.

When I got home, I realized I forgot to buy onions and garlic. I went out again to the nearby market — thankfully, it’s just outside my apartment and the prices are cheaper there. Once I had everything, I started cooking. I had to call my mom and sister to ask how to do it properly, and thankfully, the pasta turned out great! It tasted a lot like my sister’s marinara pasta — minus the hotdogs, just ground beef this time.

After cooking, I had a videocall with Mama and my sisters while eating. The pasta was so good I ended up having two plates (and some softdrinks, of course). I scrolled through my phone for a bit afterward, took a nap, and when I woke up hungry again… yep, I had more pasta.

Later, Tita Jane messaged me to check in. I told her I was doing okay and that I missed her — and her legendary langka (jackfruit)! She said there were only two left and asked if I could come over on Sunday to have some. I’m already looking forward to it since langka is one of my favorite fruits.

After our chat, I went for my evening walk and jog at the city hall park. Managed to work out for 1 hour and 19 minutes — about 7km. It felt good to sweat out all the carbs I had today, haha. When I got back, I rested a bit and tried calling my mom again, but she left her phone at my sister’s place. So I chatted with my sister and my nephews instead — I missed them so much.

After that, I got ready for work and almost ran late, but thank God I made it on time. My workplace is just a minute or two away from my apartment, so I was safe.

Simple day, but full — just the way I like it.

Today, I decided to go for a walk and jog all the way to City Hall. It felt good to move, to sweat, to just let my body catch up with my thoughts. After the workout, I stopped by the park to rest for a bit — just me, my phone, and some friends online. Everything felt normal until it didn’t.

There was this guy who suddenly sat on the other bench near me. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but the more I noticed, the creepier it got. He looked off — eyes wide, strange energy. I could tell he was staring. My gut immediately told me something wasn’t right. I took a few quick videos just in case, then quietly got up and walked toward the area where more people were. When I glanced back, he was gone. Just… disappeared.

What made it even weirder was that he looked like someone I had seen before — the same guy I happened to bump into while walking to the mall days ago. He was staring at me that time too. Maybe it’s just coincidence, but it gave me chills realizing it could’ve been the same person.

It honestly freaked me out. The kind of scare that makes you keep checking behind your back even when you know you’re safe.

Still, I’m grateful nothing bad happened. Maybe God was reminding me to stay alert, to not take safety for granted even during the quiet moments. It’s a strange feeling — wanting peace and still needing to guard it.

But I guess that’s what quiet survival looks like sometimes: walking through the calm and the creepy, trusting your instincts, and getting home safe tho.

Thank You, Lord, for keeping me safe tonight. 🙏

Went for a walk and jog today. Honestly, I just wanted to clear my head and move my body a bit, but I ended up with an unplanned expense I didn’t need. I didn’t even intend to subscribe to Strava, but when that free trial popped up, I tried it… and just like that, my money got deducted from GCash.

That was supposed to go to rent. It may not be a huge amount to some, but it’s a big deal for me — every peso counts right now. It stings, mostly because it was so unexpected. I hate that feeling — when you’re trying to do something good for yourself and life just throws in a plot twist.

Now, I need to save more to make up for it. It’s frustrating. But at the same time, I know I’ll manage. I’ve always found a way before, and I’ll find a way again. This one mistake won’t define the rest of the week.

Today, October 18th of 2025, I went out with a simple mission: to find bihon guisado that’s closer to home. I’ve been craving it lately, maybe because it reminds me so much of Mama’s cooking — nothing beats it, honestly. Since I moved, I’ve become extra picky with where I eat. I don’t really go to carinderia or street food stalls because I don’t know how the food’s prepared, and the last thing I want is to get an upset stomach.

Even if fast food isn’t exactly “healthy,” at least I know they follow some cleaning policies. That’s why I usually stick to cafes, restaurants, or fast food chains. I also don’t eat a lot in general. Most days, I just eat once — usually when I’m really hungry or craving something. Pineapples and bananas have also been my quick fix, so I survive just fine without the classic three meals a day. I’m not on a diet; I’m just really, really picky.

Anyway, I finally got my bihon guisado today (mission accomplished ✨), and I also bought a lechon meal with rice… which sadly didn’t taste good. Since it was scorching hot, I decided to make a little side trip to Wallside Café for some iced coffee. A funny thing happened there: I messaged the café on Instagram because I thought they forgot to give me my change. I was so confident about it, too. Turns out, they did give me the change — I just forgot. 😅 It must’ve been the heat frying my brain cells. I apologized right away, of course.

When I got home, I thought I’d finally get some rest. But instead of sleeping, I just ended up scrolling on my phone and posting a few snaps from my café visit. I even took melatonin, but it clearly said “melato-nope” tonight. So here I am, about to go to work with zero sleep. Hopefully, I can squeeze in a nap when things aren’t too busy.

Sunday — my official rest day. I didn’t even try to fight the urge to stay in bed. I slept until noon, the kind of deep, uninterrupted sleep that feels like my body’s way of catching up from the long week. When I finally opened my eyes, sunlight was already spilling through the curtains of my new space. No alarms, no rush, just stillness.

I spent the first hour doing what most of us do — scrolling through random videos on my phone. It’s funny how that can feel both lazy and comforting at the same time. A mix of memes, food videos, and random life updates from strangers. Sometimes it’s a quiet escape, just watching life happen elsewhere while mine stays paused for a bit.

Eventually, hunger pulled me out of bed. I decided to go outside and buy a few groceries — just the basics for now. I also bought cooked rice since I still don’t have my full cooking essentials here in the rental space. There’s something humbling about starting small, slowly building a home out of limited things. Every purchase feels like a piece of settling in — rice, a few snacks, some necessities.

The sun was merciless outside. The kind of heat that sticks to your skin and drains your energy after just a few steps. I rewarded myself with a pack of ice cubes and, without hesitation, ice cream. I guess that’s one of adulthood’s small freedoms — being able to buy yourself something sweet just because it’s hot and you deserve it.

Back at my room, I sat by the small table, eating quietly. The aircon humming softly in the background, a steady reminder that even in the quiet, there’s life and comfort here. Sunlight still harsh through the window, ice slowly melting in my glass. It wasn’t the most exciting day, but it was peaceful in its own way. There’s comfort in simplicity — in knowing that even on quiet Sundays like this, life continues gently, one small act of care at a time.

Maybe that’s what rest really means. Not about doing nothing, but allowing yourself to just be — no guilt, no rush, no pressure to make the day “productive.” Just existing in the moment, thankful that you’re still here, provided for, and slowly finding your rhythm again.

Prayer:

It still aches when I see dogs on the street, wandering, looking for food or comfort. Every time I see them, I’m reminded of Bruno—our Ituy, our first dog, the one who opened our hearts to the kind of love only dogs can give.

Bruno was not just a dog. He was family. For ten years, he gave us his loyalty, his joy, and his quiet companionship. We never had to leash him, never had to cage him. He roamed free, and yet, he always came home. That was his way—he knew where he belonged. And in his belonging, he made us feel like home, too.

I can still see it so clearly: when the rain poured hard, my mom and sister would go out just to find him, worried that he was out in the cold. That was the depth of our care for him. He wasn’t just something we owned—he was someone we loved.

When his health started to fail, I remember the helplessness. We thought he was just sick, something temporary, something that the vet could fix. We took him for check-ups, prayed that it wasn’t serious. But his body was already weary. He was dehydrated, fading, slowly losing strength. Still, he stayed with us for as long as he could.

There’s one moment that will never leave me. I was carrying my nephew, baby Lucas, and I called Bruno’s name. He looked up at me one last time. In that gaze, I felt it—a thank you, a farewell, an acknowledgment of the love we gave him. It was like he wanted me to know he was grateful, even as his body gave out.

On June 2022, after I woke from a nap, Bruno struggled for breath. He shifted to his side, fighting for life, until he finally passed in the arms of my sister. He tried to slip away quietly, to find a place to leave this world, but we didn’t let him. We kept him close. We wanted him to know he wasn’t alone, that he was loved, right up to his final breath.

The days after were filled with grief. Every morning felt heavier without him. We cried for him, not just because he was gone, but because of how much he meant to us. Bruno wasn’t just our dog. He was part of our daily life, part of our laughter, part of our home. And his absence left a silence we all felt deeply.

Even now, I still miss him. I still pray for his soul—that he is in fur heaven, running free, no longer in pain. I hope he knows how much we loved him, how much we still do.

Today’s the big move into my rental space. I’m grateful my Aunt offered to bring me here, and even more grateful that the Aunt and Tito I’ve grown close with also tagged along. They wanted to see me settle in and check if the place was good enough.

Funny thing—they had a lot of complaints right away. They said the owner should’ve included cabinets for clothes and made sure the ceilings were properly intact, especially since it’s a rental business. I could tell by their faces that the place didn’t pass their standards, but honestly, I didn’t take it personally. Old folks just really like everything neat and organized. For me, this space is enough—it’s convenient, near my workplace, with stores and places to eat just outside. (Though, truth be told, I don’t really eat in carinderias, haha.)

After they left, I started settling in. I rested for a bit, then cleaned the toilet and bath, scrubbed the floors, and fixed my bed. My Aunt—the one I previously shared a roof with—even came back later to drop off some essentials: plates, mugs, saucers, glass, spoons and forks, an electric kettle, and even curtains. She lent me those, and I’m really grateful. Small things, but they make this place feel a little more like home.

I also made sure to send a message to my titas and tito, letting them know how much I appreciate their support. And I called my Mom too—I ran short, so I asked for a little help, and of course, my selfless mom sent me some. I love her so much. I hope one day I can treat her again to everything she wants, just like before.

Now, with the cleaning done, I’m resting. Clothes still need organizing, and I’ll have to buy some hangers—maybe later or tomorrow. For now, I just need to recharge and take a power nap before my 9 PM shift.

Overall, today was a good day. A little tiring, but filled with gratitude and love.

Been working from home for two nights straight, and now it’s time to show up at the office again. Honestly, I’ve been a little lazy with work lately—probably because my tasks aren’t that heavy right now. Most of what I do is just encoding leads so clients can apply for the services we offer. It feels repetitive, like my mind is just idling on autopilot.

During those two nights at home, life moved at a slower pace. We watched horror films, went through the daily routine, had breakfast and dinner, skipped lunch but always found time for snacks around 3 p.m. Tiny and I alternately washed the dishes, watered the plants, and swept and mopped the house so that Tita wouldn’t get too stressed. At least she could come home to a clean and peaceful place.

In between all that, I managed to pack my clothes, ready for the move. Later today, before heading to work, I’ll be bringing some of my things over to my new rental space. I don’t have much home furniture yet, but I’ll take it one piece at a time, whenever the budget allows and if I have a little extra.

Staying at my aunt’s place gave me comfort, but I can already feel how different it will be to finally have my own corner. Just the thought of arranging my things there makes me feel lighter. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine—somewhere I can settle, rest, and hopefully focus better. Maybe that shift in environment will help me shake off the sluggishness and be more present, both at work and in life.

Wisdom: Life doesn’t demand that everything be complete at once. Building slowly, piece by piece, often creates the most lasting foundations. The same goes for work, for healing, and for home.