A little something from JSC, our former Brand Manager for IT Services, whom I had a long, and very good working relationship since the first e-Services @ the PTTC 10 years ago.
My Seven Daily (some time Deadly) Pleasures
(arranged chronologically based on order of occurrence ;) … as a matter of factly … of my delicious cheesecake life:) )
1. My Quiet Time … MY Daily Devotion … an early morning PEP talk with God (even when I haven’t brushed my teeth or combed my hair). It is certainly a pleasure to start the day with a prayer.
2. Bus ride from Dasma Bayan to MRT Pasay Taft (although some used to be painful) … this is when and where I take my luxury sleep … after a brief interlude with my book (me currently reading Are you there God, It’s me, Margaret) … and my IPOD on … another 2 hours of golden slumber is such a bliss.
3. In between my day, I get sweet, thoughtful messages from far away, long-time friends. Friendship when real, genuine is indeed a blessing. Each morning when I talk to God, I make sure I give thanks for such a gift.
4. After Office. I look forward coming home … to my daughter … to my friends. Evenings are beautiful when you are surrounded by people you love and loves you in return. :)
5. Shower! Jusz before 40 winks … such a delight! (clean water from my sunflower shower and my usual ritual of facial night moisturizer, eye cream, leave-in night serum on my long wavy locks ;), Johnson baby powder and lotion all over, baby powder scent petroleum jelly on my feet, tadahhhh and a splash of Denenes/Nenuco/Babe Bench’s Ice mint or Bubblegum)
6. There really is no substitute sweetener for my “lambingan” bedtime moments with Sophie. We have a new … a little bit pricey bed ;) … on a veneer wooden box in black coffee ;) … how lovely it is to doze off and get dreamy in one sweet tight embrace.
7. This online journal. The pleasure I get from writing … the pleasure of knowing that you’re listening … knowing that you have been reading. My pleasure.
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
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