I was a copyeditor…a post script

It took me a long time to write something like this…maybe because I really haven’t the luxury of time anymore. With one Scout and a Jet Li on the way, with the plant and its equipment to be friends with (duh!), with an equally weird husband such as I, with a house to take care of (which I really seldom pay attention to), with the laundry (as if!!!), with the cooking (as if!!!²), with all the budget making (what?!), I really have two of my hands full to their limit! As a day worker in a petrochemical plant, I get to wake up 5:30 am, leave the house before the 7 am call time, and get home by 6 pm. Not much left to do when I get to the house really — just a little playtime with Scout, performing the remaining duties of a MOM and a WIFE (i.e., feeding the baby, dressing her up for sleep time, lulling her to sleep, and for the hubby, you know that already!). I never thought being a family person could be this — what’s the word? — hectic! I feel like a star whose schedule no longer fits personal life anymore. Sheesh! But don’t get me wrong: I am not complaining. Really — I am just magnifying my agony…he he he…

Anyways, back to the title of this whatzat…I was rummaging through my personal garbage, as Scout is scouting the house of the Mother in Law, when I came across pictures of us in the SPi jailhouse — happy as prisoners of its rules that we no longer really give a damn to follow. We were happy…happiness reflected by the big smiles we have on our faces (and the victory signs). And then I opened an envelop among the mess on our bed, and I found that memorable MEMO I was given by my friendly friends on my last birthday at SPi…really brought out one tear (he he he…I’m pretty thrifty on tears these days) of joy! I’m becoming sentimental here. So I thought maybe it’s about time I return the favor by writing something to remember every little thing that made my stay at SPi worth the stress it also brought me.

I started as a CED trainee who knows not a single thing about the word COPYEDITING. I am a chemical engineer so please forgive me. That was in 2004. We started as a batch whose backgrounds are far from resembling each other’s; however, we managed to fit together because our attitudes somehow found a tangent point to connect our lines of imaginations with. Weird! Anyhow, that batch was reduced to four “lucky” people who passed the 99.99% rating, and we were welcomed to the elite group of CED people. I started with the ES group. Then was transferred to the San Diego group, until I found my home in the AACR Group of Companies — a group originally composed of The Ning, Mam Ge, T2rad, Me, and our mother Lzl. We were later joined by two equally weird weirdos Kaye and Mhike. And with Lzl taking her final bow with the group, we were joined by Ina Magenta Mr. Allan Palileo. Life at SPi couldn’t be any happier if I weren’t friends with my kumares and kumpares: Mo’om Jane, Grace, and Abel (later, Rico was introduced to the group courtesy of Mo’om Jane). They made me look forward to the 6 am schedule we kept so religiously among ourselves (of course much to the wonders of our fellow copyeditors whose times start around noon time). The morning gels spend a lot of happy, weird, even death-defying times inside Grace’s ever reliable KIKI! At the office, the morning won’t be complete without the morning breakfast where we get to do the morning ritual of CHIKA sharing (of course, a day not started the right way won’t be a good day after all)! Then work time comes (of course in between, there’s the visitation by Mo’om Jane to exchange more CHIKA)…being introduced to the not-so-flexi schedule, I resorted to keeping my daily 6 am to 2 pm schedule; in case an overtime is needed, I won’t have to last longer than 4 pm in the office.

Life could have stayed that way for, like, forever if it weren’t for some (corporate) “changes” that changed my outlook in life (deep eh?) and work. Everything became near-routine-like, it burned me out (literally). I dreaded mornings…it took me more than strength to muster getting out of the house and working for 8 hours (and more) inside a place that used to be happy for me (and for everyone else, I suppose). That got me to thinking maybe I should be pursuing my real profession instead. I need a breather…a way for me to get myself out of this “feeling” that’s creeping on me (I can’t explain the feeling…maybe that’s for another entry). That pushed me to retire in the land far far away of Batangas to practice what has been 3 years of wasted PRC-licensed engineering chuva! Did the whole, abrupt decision bring me what I was looking for? I’m reserving that for another musing…

What I was trying to say in this now long whatzat is that I used to be a happy copyeditor. Life as a copyeditor was made happier by friends who were there for me no matter what, who accepted me for the weirdo that I am, who showed me that I never really have to be serious to be happy and respected, that life is sweet despite the harsh reality that’s been going on around us. I was a copyeditor, and I am glad I was because I wouldn’t be a third of what I am right now if I weren’t one. I have to close for now. There are so many things to write about…so much that time is really a luxury.