Coming in Pieces

I have been super-busy with all my jobs that sometimes, I can barely make heads or tails of my day. I have to go to my dorm to dress, then go over to Thom's place to live and sleep, wake up at 5 to go to work, then after that cover news for my second job. Thom complains that I work too much. Yes, the demands of a 14-hour workday is not easy.

Not that I'm complaining. I've asked God for this, I got what I wanted. Great jobs, great boyfriend, great food, great sex, and a great apartment. So I guess I can't really complain about the stresses of my less-than perfect work week.

Last Friday night, Thom and I were wakened by a 9 pm phone call. It was a request to work on Saturday to cover an 8 am Department of Trade and Industry meeting to make a press release for Mrs. Boss' daughter, an Undersecretary.

"That is not fair because they should pay you more. It is a weekend..."
And here he goes...the "Germany speech"
"...In Germany, employees can refuse work on a weekend."

But sweetie, we're not in Germany. And my employers, most certainly, are never fair.
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We had a hectic Saturday ahead of us. We had a massage lesson at our apartment from 8 am to 12 pm from a licensed masseur I found to teach us how to give proper massages (his idea). I signed us up for a photography workshop in the Filipinas Heritage Library in Makati from 2 pm to 6 pm (my idea). This means that all our plans were shot to hell.

So I told Mrs. Boss' secretary that the photo workshop was at 10 am, and will try to make it there during the workshop lunch break. I hoped they would never catch my little white fib. I justified to myself that it was warranted, since they wanted me to work on Saturday on such short notice!

To ensure my presence, they had my mom call me at 8 am the next day to compel my attendance. I told her the same thing. Then I turned my phone off.
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Mr. Masseur came on time. He was a great teacher, and Thom was a fast learner. Ha! Great massages from here on end for me! .

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4 hours of massage lessons and an hour of crazy sex and a ___number of orgasms later, I found myself at the DTI meeting with my mind completely blank.

A slow panic was beginning to rise in my brain. I could't think. I knew I should feel alarmed, but strangely, I couldn't get myself to feel alarmed. Quick, quick I had to think, I had to think up of smart questions, I had to think up of

Ms. Undersecretary slowly walked toward me.

Could you come back at 6 pm, she asked? Come back when the meeting is over so you can conduct your interview properly.

Whew.
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I came back at 6:30 p.m., complete with my voluntary functions, and stayed until 8:30 pm. Poor Thom had it worse than me. He completely forgot his ATM card's PIN number, and now has to write to his bank in Germany and wait for a month for them to replace his PIN!