Here I go again, unearthing old journal entries (this time, from my old Multiply account). I wrote the following pieces prior to starting my first job with Integreon. Looking back, I can say that I've grown a lot - or maybe not! Dammit. These posts were written three years ago!
One of the most recurrent questions in the countless job interviews I've been to was about my five-year plan. Five years ago, my five-year plan was utterly simple: to be the best sprint hurdler in the Ateneo, UAAP and in the Philippines. Obviously, I came up short of meeting that goal. Although, I did come a long way from my origins as an obscure, reed-thin (still am) introvert that I was.
Now that time has ended (surely, you guys remember my "End of time is _____." status messages), I've been pondering about my life's direction and purpose. Hence, here's my attempt at putting some semblance of order:
1.) Find a suitable entry-level job (with a bank).
2.) Learn the ropes of the industry.
3.) Make a name for myself.
4.) Learn to love what I'm doing.
5.) Learn to find happiness in what I'm doing.
6.) Compete in the 110m High Hurdles again. Compete in the SEA Games.
7.) Find other sources of money.
8.) Build up my investment portfolio.
9.) Earn tons of money from it.
10.) Move out of the house.
11.) Move to another country for the better part of the next decade, then come back.
12.) Fall in love.
Okay. I am light years away from the goals that I've set, especially from nos. 10, 11 and 12. This is even worse than the summer of 2003, when I used to lie on the good ole Moro track dreaming of UAAP glory. These 12 things have been recurring themes in my solitary walks in Makati, Ortigas and Tandang Sora. How in the hell am I gonna achieve all these?
Whew. This is a welcome change from my quasi-masochistic rantings. Finally, I've found some semblance of direction!
The first days of job hunting (the walk-in kind, not online) were quite difficult. The tall, concrete and steel skyscrapers of Makati and Ortigas were intimidating. Everywhere I looked I saw uncaring strangers. Thank heavens for the few familiar faces I ate my lunch with. I longed for the tree-lined Loyola Campus, the vehicle-choked expanse of Katipunan and yes, even the putrid surroundings of Tandang Sora. The streets of the Central Business District was like a labyrinth.
10 interviews and 5 tests later, I can now say that I've adjusted. I'm no longer a stranger to this concrete jungle of faceless suits and ties. I've even went to the extent of drawing a map of the place and memorized the important buildings. Interviews are second nature to me now. Yes, it still feels draining at times, but it's starting to have some semblance of routine since I keep on repeating the same things over and over again.
Many a time I've felt the desire to bring my track stuff and to train in Rizal (two train rides away). But then again, I've put everything on hold until I've made the first definite steps into corporate world.
In a sense, I've found comfort in being just another anonymous soul amidst countless other souls. I'm excited at what the future holds for me. As I roam the streets of Makati, I feel puny and powerful at the same time. Puny, because I'm green as the Gary Valenciano and Gary Lising. Powerful, since my entire life is iahead of me, whose paths are determined by our own choices and mistakes and by those poignant, serendipitous moments of wonder.
10 interviews and 5 tests later, I can now say that I've adjusted. I'm no longer a stranger to this concrete jungle of faceless suits and ties. I've even went to the extent of drawing a map of the place and memorized the important buildings. Interviews are second nature to me now. Yes, it still feels draining at times, but it's starting to have some semblance of routine since I keep on repeating the same things over and over again.
Many a time I've felt the desire to bring my track stuff and to train in Rizal (two train rides away). But then again, I've put everything on hold until I've made the first definite steps into corporate world.
In a sense, I've found comfort in being just another anonymous soul amidst countless other souls. I'm excited at what the future holds for me. As I roam the streets of Makati, I feel puny and powerful at the same time. Puny, because I'm green as the Gary Valenciano and Gary Lising. Powerful, since my entire life is iahead of me, whose paths are determined by our own choices and mistakes and by those poignant, serendipitous moments of wonder.
Finally! After months of job hunting I got my first job offer. It's a pleasant feeling, quite similar to getting accepted for a particular school. As the euphoria started to subside, the weight of reality hit me hard. The job description is tailor-made for my qualifications. Although, the shifting schedules would wreak havoc to my body clock. Well, we all have to make sacrifices. Most importantly, the opportunities for personal and professional growth are impressive.
I have one week to think about this and to weigh other offers as well.
I rode the bus (the shabby kind, the one without airconditioning and upholstered seats) going home to escape the mad rush of bodies in the MRT, and mainly, to think things out. I don't know what's with me and buses. I seem to have a certain sense of affinity with those big, smoke-belching hulks of steel. Perhaps it's due to the moments I've spent pondering in the chartered UAAP buses during my track days.
Seven years ago, I had to choose between basketball and track & field (the logical and wiser choice was the latter, of course). Five years ago, I was at a loss at what course to take in college (the choice of school was a no-brainer, never shall I run for any other school - except for the Ivy League schools). A year ago, I spent a considerable amount of time choosing my training outfits. I was very particular with what I wore on the track. The colors had to match and the type of outfit was supposed to be perfect for the weather (half tights for regular days, full tights for rainy days and short shorts for hot days).
I have one week to think about this and to weigh other offers as well.
I rode the bus (the shabby kind, the one without airconditioning and upholstered seats) going home to escape the mad rush of bodies in the MRT, and mainly, to think things out. I don't know what's with me and buses. I seem to have a certain sense of affinity with those big, smoke-belching hulks of steel. Perhaps it's due to the moments I've spent pondering in the chartered UAAP buses during my track days.
Seven years ago, I had to choose between basketball and track & field (the logical and wiser choice was the latter, of course). Five years ago, I was at a loss at what course to take in college (the choice of school was a no-brainer, never shall I run for any other school - except for the Ivy League schools). A year ago, I spent a considerable amount of time choosing my training outfits. I was very particular with what I wore on the track. The colors had to match and the type of outfit was supposed to be perfect for the weather (half tights for regular days, full tights for rainy days and short shorts for hot days).
What sort of decisions would I have to make one, five, ten years from now? I must admit that I feel a faint sense of intimidation. After all, I'm only human. And humans are naturally averse to changes in routine (are they, really?). But what the hell? Bring it on.
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