It feels like I am starting anew—groping to write a personal blogpost. Oh yes, I have been writing on socio-political issues with Blogwatch, but it has been months since I have written a real blogpost, one that speaks of what I have in my heart, one that speaks of what is me.
I have been wanting to write a blogpost to accompany my thanks to my friends and dear ones who greeted me on my birthday, even to those who have forgotten to greet me, to those who greeted me belatedly, to those who have greeted me half-heartedly, and to those who greeted me for the sake of going through the motions (no pun intended). Nevertheless, thank you dear all
The past few months have been very hectic for me in terms of work, and in terms of the many tasks of moving to a new home, and the many decisions to make and the stresses attached to it. On the very Ondoy Day, we decided to move out of our home for 13 years from Maginhawa Street in Teachers’ Village to our new address in Loyola Heights in QC. We moved out the next day, 2 weeks early (since we were to move out anyway, and since the boys’ pad was flooded (by a few inches only, the very first time this happened).
And the rest is history—we are better situated now, the kids are happier, our place is nearer their schools and it is more convenient for all of us.
I have been amiss in my emails, in Facebook, in Plurk, even in meeting up face-to-face with friends that I keep. I have ceased being online 24/7 (my byline—online almost 24/7 to serve the needs of my clients….and friends). I must have been drowning…drowning…drowning…at work maybe? No, I have been sleeping…sleeping…sleeping…
…and literally and figuratively—I have stopped and smelled the flowers!
It is never too late to do so.
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