Waiting for 2:30

So: this is funny. It looks like I can actually write on a Wednesday afternoon about my day!

I am waiting for my son's dismissal time: 2:30 PM. I still have an hour. The guy who shuttles him to and from the school is out today - he said he's bringing a relative to Gumaca, Quezon. This meant I had to wake up at 5:45 AM and prepare our breakfast and lunch (breakfast is luncheon meat - I know it's processed, thank you, so to lessen the guilt I threw in the cucumber kimchi I also made last week - and lunch is tonkatsu I breaded last week), and heat water for his hot shower in the kettle (a habit I think he got from me) and then take a shower, get dressed, pack my gym stuff in my Freitag, and then pull his stroller - which is really small; I had to lean my shoulders to the side while doing this - for what seemed like a mile to the tricycle, to the jeep, and then to his school campus. By the time we arrived he's late at 7.30 AM, which is fine (he rarely gets to school after 7AM) since I told him to tell his teacher his service didn't come in today.

Naturally, packing my stuff at 6.30 in the mornning - without coffee - meant I forgot my charger and my power bank. When I checked my phone after realizing this, it only had 23% battery: enough for me to jog with some music on (I'm digging Yung Lean's Iceman at the moment) and then send some text messages.

Now my phone exhausted all of its battery power, and I couldn't authenticate my Facebook or my office email because both services would text a code to my phone. So I found myself doing what I would probably not do in a million years: write about my day on a Wednesday afternoon. This warrants a self-assessment: apparently, when I'm left with nothing else to do outside our house, I write. (Maybe computer shops are conducive environments as well - at least during this ungodly hour?) Writing used to be at the top of the hierarchy, but... life happens. One thing that makes me optimistic these days: I'm inactive on all my social media platforms (fine - I routinely check Messenger because that's where my wife and I send our errands and all, and I'm thinking of switching that to WhatsApp) and last Saturday, during a four-hour queue to renew my family's passport, we finished a crossword from The New York Times. (Again: things I would probably not do in a million years!)

25 minutes to go. I've managed to crib the Ashbery poem I've always been curious to read: Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror. I'll get it printed today - I pasted each page on a Word document, so it looks like one of those literature handouts I had in college. I read half of it two weeks ago at the bus and thought I need to do a closer reading of the poem - it's one of his first and critically acclaimed poems, and obviously his seminal work - while reading it I sensed how Ashbery's tone unfolds from observations to non sequitur. 

Maggi Hambling

Things are not difficult to make; what is difficult is putting ourselves in the state of mind to make them. - Constantin Brancusi