So my in-laws are here & it’s like every nightmare I’ve had has come to life. They’re jet lagged. After cleaning up after my son, my husband & ourselves, I noticed my nanay-in-law sitting in the lounge trying to stay focused on “Princess Diaries”. I told her to lie down & rest. She immediately concurred as if it’s something she never thought of. Now, where was my tatay-in-law? He was in the bedroom happily snoring us to death.

Then it dawned on me, their relationship has always been like that. You know like “tulog-na-ko-di kita-aayain-bahala-ka-sa-buhay-mo” type. As in. I’ve seen it time & again, I just never put two-&-two together. There was a time a long time ago that Tatay brought Nanay to Manila & told her to climb the heady-heights of the MRT eventhough she was panting to death. Then there was Nanay, whom I keep asking to teach Tatay to use our super-hitech percolator. She insists he ought to know (though I just showed it to her too), then an hour later Tatay asks “pano magpakulo ng tubig?” with his grating waray accent (no offence to all warays). The worst to me was the night they arrived. They landed at 7pm but got home at near 10pm. I have some soup ready, hello it’s winter. I told Tatay to call Nanay & get take some soup as I clean my toddler’s bottles. What did he say? “Ah busog na yun“. Oookkaaayy. I mean less dish to clean ‘eh? Then who asks for food an hour later?? I told her she’s supposed to be full and she nonchalantly says she hardly touched her plane-fare.

It’s not that they don’t love each other. I’m sure they do. They’re just… weird? Unemotional? Too practical? Too unromantic? Too uncaring? Maybe. But what scares me is my persistent & nagging complaint to my husband. Malambing sya but there is something lacking. I have to tell him what to do, what I’d what to happen, where I want to go, things like that… do you get the picture? Sure he’s a good husband, does his share & all. He’s a good father. He tries but still fall waaayyy short. Maybe I’m just expecting too much — you know, decent meals out are so precious these days. Or even a surprise night out. Or even a backrub offer. Heck I’d settle for a foot massage!

I’m a miserable person, aren’t I? I ask for the impossible. If the man grew up with people who hardly looks at each other with affection, how can I expect him to know what it is? Egad! What have I gotten myself into?

Can I train him? Do I have the energy & patience? Moreover, do I want to? Who knows maybe I can live without whatever-it-is-I’m-missing. If I can’t, I can always blame the in-laws.

London Underground is my main transportation to work. For 5 years I know it can leave me drained, smelly, angry, frustrated, trapped, — stressed! I’ve had near miss fights. I’ve had a few elbow-run-in’s & a couple of groping hands.

For lack of something to write I will start a journal of what I think are “interesting” events in my tube journey.

In New York and Melbourne a lot of women in business suits wear sneakers/running shoes/trainers (british slang) to work. Here the practicality is just beginning to appeal the Londoners. So often you’d see women in killer stilleto heels running up & down the escalators. You’d also see some of them tumbling over, most get their heels stuck in the wedges of the floor. Foolish but it’s their choice & their ankle at stake, so who cares?

What irritates me are those women who insists on crossing their legs whilst sitted in the train. Their foot gently hitting your leg if you happen to stand in front of them. Most often people would trip if they pass them on the way in/out.

So ayan ang nangyari kahapon. Some blonde who thinks she’s really cool & fashionable in her suede boots kept her foot aloft a-bumping my leg, asking for revenge. Sitting down, I stepped on her foot only just slightly to annoy her. It worked, I was polite so I said sorry. On the way out, aba nakaharang pa din ang paa, I stepped on her foot again - hard.

The title’s an exaggeration. No one I know is under attack. But my in-laws are coming. So it is in a way similar to having ala-War of the Worlds feeling about the whole situation.

Don’t get me wrong, I like my in-laws. So far we’ve never fought, exchanged rude words, there’s no animosity. But living on my own for the last 14 years I dread the invasion of my privacy. There’s this paranoia suggesting my rules will be broken & my home is no longer mine to control. I don’t rule the roost anymore. It’s different when my parents were here. Since they’re MY parents, I still rule. I’m still the boss. But now… well you get the picture.

It will make other people cringe, some would raise their brows at me, but I am bracing myself for some unforeseen & disastrous scenarios.

SkyOne has been showing Simpson reruns. One episode showed Marge very harassed and fed-up & finally went for a break by lonesome. Sure it must have cost them Homer’s full-salary for the month, but it looked so worth it. And I envy her.

I want to take a break from work& from home-work. I want a full-week where I get pampered & attended to. I want to be on my own & not think of anyone else. I don’t want to be burdened by my responbilities. Pwede ba ‘yun?

Or I can use a MAJOR increase in salary. That will do as well.

My “minor” surgery is due next week. Since the first attempt last month was cancelled due to flu, I’m praying I don’t catch anything until Thursday. Last Wednesday I ditched going to work as I felt sickly. I took to bed and got up to do some light office work. Today, a Friday, my throat is sore. I cannot have that! They won’t operate unless I’m 100% okay. They told me last time if I have laryngitis, I’d risk a chest infection… So here I am again sat in our “home office-cum-storage room”, working.

It’s convenient having access to my office network (via SSH). But I’ve been struggling with my broadband connection since Monday. It’s been dropping in & out. I find myself interchanging prayers & curses by lunchtime. I tried everything. Disconnect all the cables on the ADSL modem, restart the desktop, reinstall the modem software, I’ve even replaced my network cable and ADSL filter! I’ve probably spent hundreds on the premium rate tech-support of my ISP, but no dice. I called up the line fault number to make sure there’s nothing wrong with my phone line. So as last resort I’ve emailed the 24-hour support desk & I’m asking them for details on a modem upgrade, as it’s the only thing I haven’t been able to replace.

Gad!

I’ve got 4 more months on my contract. After that I’d shop for another ISP. One with a better deal & better tech support line. (My current one’s in India & it takes too much PAID time to repeat your question & have them repeat their answer, their technical knowledge & their grasp of English need a lot of improvement.) Maybe I’d go for a wireless router next time.

…and I hate it! I don’t like getting up between 5-6am every morning. I don’t like torturing myself daily with the realities of the company red-tape & office politics. I don’t like working with stupid people. I don’t like working with stupid AND lazy people. But most of all I don’t like working FOR stupid & workaholic people.

There’s nothing worse than a cold, damp, gloomy British winter morning faced with 9 hours of time-defying work. But such is the reality of my life.

I feel so unfulfilled. I don’t like it here. I want to be out in the field or be conversing with people or am indulging myself. But I’m not rich. I was born in the slums & I grew up in a working class family. So work is my fate.

I do not resent my situation. I am lucky I am earning. But the fact is, most of the time I want to spend my days at my leisure. And I cannot, for the life me, think of ways I can getaway from my corporate hell.

On my way to work, with random thoughts as company, I had to urge to count my age (I tend to forget) and realised that I am 30 this year! I was shocked. For me ‘30′ officially dates a person as “old”. And now I am. In 10 years time I will be 40.

What have I got to show for it? This is a milestone in my life and have I got what wanted and truly deserved? I thought long and hard back to those girl promises made in the 80’s. Well at least I was true to my promise not to marry until I was 25. I didn’t want kids until my early 30’s but then changed my mind as I don’t want to be a stooped old lady with a teenage son. I have a mortgage, I a brand new family car which we’re paying for 3-years, I’m a senior employee at work, I’ve been to several continents… So are these enough to gauge my personal achievements?

I can’t help but feel that there is a void. My love for my family is great & overwhelming but at the same time the responsibilities and relationships I have are also tremendous. I hate being a grown-up & I loathe the need to act like one. I’d like to curl up & just be my mom’s little girl. Ahh those were days.

30, it scares me.

2006 has officially started.

And what do you know? Researchers are all over the papers this morning with their discovery that the first day back at work after the holidays is the most depressing day of the year! Wow. Genius. Depleted bank accounts, increased waistline, etc. etc., I wonder why it took them this long to realise that?

But the worse is yet to come for England apparently. The telegraph reports that officially January 23 is the day to dread. Maybe it’s more to do with the fact that people here get paid only once and payday is always at the end of the month. By the second week of January we’re all paupers after embracing the commercialisation of Christmas & its sale season cousin.

Then another silly news is that flogging of “real” happiness is in hard work! Read it here. Eh?

If hard work is the path to true happiness why did I (& the rest of the commuters today) have a long face this morning? All of us looked like we battled with the bed covers. In the end the need to cover the overdrafts & pay the credit cards won out.