HELLO MIKE

I’m sick and tired of the shouting, of the demands, of everything! I’m torn between my obligations in our family and my duties in the office. I’m even losing my social life! I already don’t know what to do. I already don’t know how to please you. My bosses. Even myself!

At first I thought everything will work out as planned. I was excited when I heard the news that I’ll be starting to work at a blink upon application. I even prepared for that moment. I went to the spa. I went to the salon for my hair and make-up. I even called for the best couturier in town for my wardrobe. All I had in mind by that time was I am a star. A big, bright star!

But look at me now? Do I still look like my age? Look at my wrinkles. The last time that I stood in front of the mirror I only had three. But now…ah, never mind. I’m so stressed out. I’m physically, mentally, socially exhausted.

I’m not blaming anybody. Much more I don’t blame myself. (Why should I?) It’s just that I came up to a point where it seems I’m very helpless. As if I’m deserted.

Despite all the efforts I have exerted, as if nothing has changed. Despite the concern I am giving to the people around me, no one is pleased. No matter how I try to reach out to them, nobody appreciates it. They blame me for their misfortunes. They blame me for the adversities which are obviously out of my control. I’m not a superhero in a skimpy, red two-piece who, at times of trouble and danger, comes and saves the day.

But I swear. I’m doing my best to do my job. I’m doing everything to address all the issues concerning my workplace. I’m even sacrificing much of my time trying to find ways in minimizing, if not totally eradicating, those problems instead of having quality time with you and our children. Why can’t they see it? Why are they so unfair?

Oh, I’m sorry. I think I’m being iniquitous to you. I always talk about my work, I always complain about my work when I can’t even spend a moment for a cup of coffee with you.

But don’t worry. In a year and a half, everything will be fine again. I’ll be stepping out of Malacañang, I’ll be coming back home. With you. With our children. With our grandchildren. We’ll have quality time together again. The way we used to be.


Love lots,

Glory