I am hungry as I write this. Starving is more like it, but spare me your patience as I wax poetic.
Let me expound.
|The long road ahead.
Monday morning. As I logged in for my usual 8am-5pm online shift on Skype, I noticed a note from the HR head Friday lunchtime (while I was busy doing last minute preparations for a weekend Bataan trip) that I have mail. Typically an e-mail from her meant only two things: the bosses had an urgent task for me that can not simply be coursed over Skype, or I was dead meat.
Now I have never been handed that second one in my nearly two year-stay in the firm, but intuition made me restless the past two weeks. Everyone I used to work with has either resigned or have been weeded out, and this does not exclude upper management. There were only two of us left from the original employee line-up, the other being the HR head. One of the company’s owned ventures have been shut down after a long period of low returns. The daily three article-task turned nil; I had to check with the project manager if I should be concerned. As the lone content writer/ copy writer/ editor in the company, this was rather strange, especially that the web development team is always working on something.
I keyed in my company e-mail address and password. Subject line: Per Article.
My heart pounded.
I didn’t need to read the entire e-mail to know I was being sacked. Okay, so they did say, “We are converting your status to a per-article basis. Please give us a proposal on how much you would charge.” But really, we all know that’s just a pretty phrase for “We hate to see you go, but we have to.” When someone says, “It’s been a pleasure working with you”, that always signals an end. And at the rate things are going, chances are, there’s no looking back for either of us now.
For the first time in two years, I am once again, officially unemployed. The thought sent me multitudes of titillated nerves and terror at the same time. I have all the time in the world to freelance full-time now. Be a full-time blogger. Or perhaps, I could venture into print media, selling marketing copies and press releases.
But on the other hand, doubts raced and were raised. Was I to end up in a reception area afterall, punching in extension numbers and entertaining visitors? Could I survive solely on freelance work? There are occasional ones of course, but cutthroat as the industry is, that alone can not suffice for the bills, the rent, and my growing daughter.
The idea of being a full-time mum crossed my mind. A few well-meaning souls remark that motherhood agrees with me. While my rambunctious daughter does bring out a certain glee and pride in my usual day-to-day routine, being solely a stay-at-home mom and wife with no other preoccupation is not a life that suits me well. Even with the ever-present, nerve-wracking pile of chores and writing assignments to deal with, I tend to get bored. My spirit is not one that can be shackled in a single place. Daily adult interactions and long commutes are pleasures I crave.Walking miles through metropolitan wind, rustling leaves and honking cars are always a welcome retreat. Sometimes even, I would imagine myself donned in smart casuals like before, coming home to Lia and being greeted with a shrill “Mommyyyy!!!” while I hand her over a small pack of pasalubong.
As I gather my best work and once again, go through that tedious cycle of hunting homebased employment resources, updating cover letters and resumes and receiving polite thank you notes, I felt exhausted like I never have. But at the pit of my soul, immense hunger also churns. That which makes one squirm in anguish and fueled with desire at the same time.
Hunger is good. It feeds the spirit with persistence and insight. It makes one curious of possibilities, so he may stretch his limits, create reforms, and discover more. My only hope is that at the tail-end of all this, there is a chock-full of sating flavors waiting on my plate.