Fogged out...

Before i get around to my next “Letter to Marge,” my long-forgotten “Letters to Prez Glow,” my long overdue CD reviews of Side A’s latest effort sans songwriting treasure-chest Joey Benin, Sade’s latest lazy-smooth-cool offering, and Gino Padilla’s ultima-cool “Hands of Time” CD that he generously sent my way (damn good music in there, especially the lead single “Keeping the Memories Alive”) or many other pointless posts, i make a futile shout out to the cyber-ether that i am getting my brains fogged out in my extended stay in Baguio City...

The wife calls it burn out. But i’m not exactly tired. Fogged out is more like it. So fogged out that while riding an escalator up to take the roofdeck shots you see here, i found myself realizing that my face was dangerously close to a point-blank fart shot from the native right in front of me...

And i'm so fogged out that i discovered it was possible to run out of things to google for...

There’s always something to do around here work-wise, and it always feels rewarding to be able to finally pitch in on the family businesses, but the 12-hour shifts and the running out of open restaurants at 9-something in the PM are total bummers.

But the house here is really nice, the garden’s nice (but no time to enjoy it), and the weather makes everything picturesque. And with the city being the tiny little thing that it is, at least Marge and the wife can drop in from time to time. And the wife will try to console my Maverick itch by giving me an imaginary (but not too imaginary) countdown to when we drive back and i find myself posturing in the office like Denny Crane, insulting my team like Gregory House, and only recently dreaming that i can be as suave and talented as Don Draper.

I miss bookstores. I miss Comic Odyssey. I miss cinemas. I miss Maverick. Good thing i’m going back soon for another spell.

This post (like all other posts) is pointless and will not change the world in any way. Thank you for reading this far. By now, i know who you are, but you guys do not know who i really am. But that’s being pseudo-highbrow figurative, dudes...

(photo at right is my daily view for about 8-10 hours on almost every God-given day, including weekends, but with much more people than the shot here since this was shot after hours, and yours truly was sooo bored waiting for the cashiers to turn in their stuff...)

P.S. Happy Birthday, Mia!

‘catch you later...