Just one of those days...

December 2007… Around the time of my birthday… 2nd year college, 2nd term… It was the day of submission for a research paper. Deadline—0900. I left my house early to find a hundred people waiting for jeeps at the terminal. Fortunately, there was another way. I could take a shuttle from Bicutan to school, but I had to take a jeep down to the shuttle terminal first. When I got there, the shuttle took longer than usual to fill up. Apparently, leaving at 0700 wasn’t early enough. Good thing, a friend was there and I asked her to print my stuff and have it bound.

0830… the shuttle still hadn’t left the garage yet. I was desperate. Two or three more seats till the van moved… It was 0820 when we left Bicutan. It would take about 30 to 45 minutes to arrive in school. I felt impending doom, but I kept hoping a miracle would happen. Instead of a miracle, I got traffic—not so much, but enough to delay. My stomach was turning…

0855… Finally got to the book-binding place where my friend was. 5 minutes to go… There were 3 more people before me. I practically ran out of the place to the department so I could submit. Our professor was there, right by the door collecting the research papers. She looks at me and says, “What time is it?” She looked at the clock, “09:03… I’m sorry, this is late.” I tried to explain… “I’m sorry, but we have to be strict with time blah blah blah.” Then she takes the bound papers, puts it on top of the pile, and writes a “Late 0.0 9:30” on the cover. No more buts… I just headed on out of there and sadly stepped out of the building for a smoke.

I didn’t want to fail anything anymore… I couldn’t… But seeing the professor write a 0.0 on my paper made it seem like my fate was sealed. I had failed. Not because I wasn’t capable of writing a good paper. Not because I procrastinated. Just because there were no jeeps, just because the shuttle I happened to be on had to wait to fill up, I failed… Happy birthday!!!

I needed a drink at 10am… Two friends were there. I ranted and rambled about the grades and the birthday at first then we got to sharing stories. I got us maybe 3 or 4 rounds of Red Horse and San Mig Light in the process. A few hours later, it was time to go home, time to commute again. This time it was the train. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold the liquor so I puked inside my mouth on the train. I tried to swallow most of it, but a little vomit slipped out and dripped onto my white shirt. There were no windows to open nor could I press the emergency button to stop the train and open the doors. Disgusting, I know… The jeep and tricycle rides that followed were easier. I felt better, but I still hated that I had to commute. I despised Philippine public transportation and all its quirks.