This Will All End Soon

As I suspect the rumblings of something in my gut. I'm not sure--I can be wrong.

I'm leaving for the condo again tomorrow morning for five days give or take and I'm wondering whether what I'm saving by way of commute money is worth not being at home for stuff. The cajon is at home and I can't access certain sites at work and we're coming closer and closer to a decision about which channels to choose for when we get cable (finally someone got around to opening cable channel packages for customization). The winners are National Geographic and the Discovery channels. We can always get series off of somewhere. And we don't particularly like movie channels if you want the truth. Too much investment required.

So there'll be days to think of that. For the meantime, Intermittent Reader, let me bask in my amateur CSS skillz and how, in a span of ten hours I was able to get the Bartender Extraordinaire's website to look a little better. Now for SEO and site-submissions.

On the writing front: nothing. I swore I'd make time. I swore I'd make time. This week I'm going to look for a proper coffee shop.

My birthday? The team mates have done the sweetest things, as usual, but no one wanted to touch the cake when I threatened them with a kiss. But barring that, frankly, it IS nice to know you're loved every now and then. Eric was right (hmpgh): the unexplainable outburst the week before was probably due to birthday blues. I was planning on sulking, again, on my birthday, but happy stuff made that impossible.

Last week at lunch we've been asked what the middle of year meant for us. In my heart, my birthday WAS the middle of the year. Don't bother fighting me on it; that's what I believe. On my birthday, I made my family eat somewhere nice and then I went off and watched Transformers 2. I rode the bike that morning and that made it all the special.

It's nice to have goals, friends. They're something to look back at when you don't know just how the hell you ended up exactly where you are and not somewhere else. There's a reason for this and for me the most refreshing part of it is this time it's all because of my choices, my decisions, my deliberate treatment of anything and everything I can about my life.

There's this guy I once knew who said (and I'm sure I've said this in one of my other posts) the more responsible he made himself for the choices he made, the better the choices seemed to be.

I wonder how cool it'd be to bike around Eastwood in the mornings. I suspect cars wouldn't give bikers the same respect as they would in Marikina (medyo kapos na nga rin sa Marikina, but it's the motorcycles I hate). I tried running one morning but it had just rained so there wasn't anybody around and I felt weird running alone, like there was no use. With bikes you had to move--everything made more sense.

I'd wish everything else made more sense. But I know myself better than that.