it's a few minutes before 8 am. am in baguio and everyone's asleep, as people here are wont to do during holidays.
here i am in a wing chair, with my feet up and my laptop on my lap (heck, where else). i can see the sunlight streaming through the french windows from where i'm sitting. i can smell the coffee brewing (our helper is here) and i can hear whatever she's cooking sizzle.
these are the sounds of home. in a while the kids will be awake and will start running around. my dad will be up telling us to go out and vote. in an hour or so we will all be sitting around the round table discussing stuff and most probably arguing about politics and why we should or should not vote for a particular candidate.
home. for the past several years i've been practically a transient here. the clothes i have kept here will fit into a tiny knapsack. i don't have a room anymore and the stuff i left behind here are all packed in boxes.
i've lived in manila for almost 15 years, with a year long break after i graduated in '98 and before i went to law school. and for the past 4 years i've been mostly supporting myself (mostly because my parents and my sisters do hand me stuff when they feel like it).
i have been away from home for so long that i can actually count the friends i have here using the fingers from both hands only. most of my friends here have left for manila, for the us, for europe, basta, for elsewhere.
why am i going on and on and on about this????
i handed in my resignation last friday, and with that, i gave up most of my independence.
so here i am, contemplating my life and the implications of giving up my job.
carlo's awake and so is mommy. breakfast calls.