Sunday, November 19, 2006

Early Morning musings and Manny

I slept at around 5:00 this morning.  Crazy, crazy, crazy.  The sky was already beginning to gather light, while my mind remained active as ever.  I wasn't scared though; I was accompanied by the voice of a Muslim man chanting over loudspeakers in the distance.  Add to that the hellish collective crowings of a bajillion roosters, some of them just over my neighbor's backyard.  Ooh, If only I had a slingshot...

But it felt nice.  I felt strangely calm and unusually refreshed as I lay on my bed and looked out the window.  So this is how a 'morning person' feels like.  I was so energetic that I felt like I could take a nice walk outside, or even go jogging in the cool, damp air.  If only I could feel like this everytime I wake up in the morning; then perhaps 7:40 classes wouldn't be such a pain in the rear.  I then fell asleep 45-or-so minutes later.

I woke up at exactly 8:32 in the morning, partly due to the morning heat and the sound of my phone's alarm(which totally pisses me off since I still have'nt figured out how to cancel it--which means I'm always shocked to wakefulness at 8:30, whether I want to or not).  All the energy I had a few hours earlier had totally dissipated, and I was left with a throbbing headache and aching, jelly-like muscles.  I didn't want to get out of bed but I had to since it was Sunday morning and my 'generalissimo' of a dad had decreed that we were going to mass early(his reason: so he could return home in time to watch the Pacquiao-Morales fight). 

At least the cold shower partly got rid of the lethargy.  At mass I thought I would sleep all throughout the homily, but--surprisingly--I felt fine; I even sang a few church songs(off-key as usual).  We ate lunch, then went to NCCC to buy groceries.  There I ran into a mirror and saw a zombie staring back at me.  I swear it totally looked like I had smudged the charred remains of a burnt matchstick under my eyes.  Scary.  No wonder some people gave me quizzical stares at the mall.  Grrr. 

Then we went home, just in time to see Manny pummel a visibly thinner Morales at round three.  Erik looked like a lost boy as he sat there on the canvas.  Pooh-pooh.  Anyway, whatever--I still the think boxing is barbaric, savage, animalistic, yuck yuck yuck. 

On the other hand, I just can't help but envy Manny and the P50M+++  that he's going to bring home again.  That amount would probably take me 30 years to earn, if I'm lucky.  Sigh. 

My current LSS: "Laban mo, laban ko, laban natin to..."