sunday bloody sunday.

01.
"ang bitter ng playlist ko (my playlist is so bitter)," i told my officemate while i was playing some songs in my workstation pc. "bitter, or depressing." or both. when i said that, fiona apple's paper bag was currently playing. i've queued a couple of aimee mann songs, some by pj harvey. i'm adding some radiohead tracks later. then i could crawl in one corner and begin slashing my wrists and post photos of 'em in el-jay.

"why bitter? why are you bitter?" is the expected question from her, and she did ask it. but i don't know. i'm not feeling particular bitter. not in a long time. i brushed it off, saying bitter and depressed are my default moods. how el-jay.

02.
it's five-thirty in the morning. i shut my eye when the jeepney started to move. it's the first day of another work week.

a conversation three people across caught my ear: transfers, spanish queue, AHT. all said in a voice that cut across the comforting buzz of a five-thirty AM background noise.

the mostly one-sided conversation continued: a call center woman talking about her work after work. i wanted to throw her off the moving vehicle. there i was, holding on to the last few hours of my rest day, and she just had to yakk about work while i was happily pretending work is still more than three kilometers away.

i let out an audible groan. maybe she's in this job for just two months, you know? so she's still all excited about phone transfers and getting misrouted calls supposedly for the spanish queue. but i don't bloody care. she ruined my sunday morning. she ought to die a slow and painful death.