When I got my license, I was 22, I worked under DPWH. If the PSHS contract didn't exists, I might have flown to Japan ASAP.

Well, anyway, on my 25 birthday, 18th month pay, I started attending to my transfer to Japan. By September, I quit my job; and by December, right after Christmas, I went to Japan.

It was on the plane to Japan where I met my first husband. Of course, at first I didn't know he'd be my husband. Back to the topic, he was friendly, yes. But I wasn't interested. We exchanged contact numbers, just for the sake of friendliness.

Living in a foreign (add NON-ENGLISH SPEAKING) country is frustrating. I wasn't making any friends, and worse, I wasn't making any money. I couldn't find a job. My last hope for an acquaintance was the guy on the plane. And so, I called him and asked for help. He was more than willing to help. He called up a few companies, helped me with my forms, and instructed me well on how to answer questions. I was able to apply in notable companies thanks to my, by the way, dentist friend. In exchange, I helped in his clinic while waiting for my interview dates. In two weeks time, I got a job. New year, new life, new job.

I was highly paid for my minimal effort. I was happy... and was happier when Dentist and I started dating. He's gentle, kind, rich, and fun. We had one year of boyfriend-girlfriend relationship until he proposed, on his 29th birthday. Four months later, we got married. What's sweet is, it was two years after we met.

Life was going well. The clinic was making more than enough for the both of us, and my job was providing enough money for my shopping list. Life is great. No, wait... Life WAS great.

I was in the office when someone called from the hospital. My husband is dead. His student-assistants are dead, and four innocent patients are dead. Later investigations pointed the crime to a rival clinic. People I never met in my whole life were found guilty, and the rival clinic was shut down. Two months later, it was turned into a fitness gym. What I can't understand is, why didn't he tell me anything about a rival clinic, or the death threats, or the seriousness of the situation?

So, I was left alone. Alone with no husband, no kids, a house and lot, a car, a clinic, and my husband's money in the bank.

Still, life can't keep me down. I sold the clinic, since having to maintain it just reminds me of the massacre. I kept the house, however lonely it felt. I kept the car, though I didn't drive it. I kept my job, of course. Even with all my late husband's wealth, I still wanted to work. And I couldn't get myself to spending the money I didn't work for. I invested some of my savings in my friends' businesses, back in the Philippines. I don't really have anything to lose.

One rainy afternoon, in Shibuya Station, I bumped into the guy of my dreams. I forgot about him, but, there he was, standing right in-front of me. After that encounter, I tried getting his attention. I walked in-front of Johnny's Jimusho as much as I can, however far it is from my home and my office. I looked for a part-time job as a model, and I got one!

Labels: ekek, waste

posted by LOR | Permalink

When I got my license, I was 22, I worked under DPWH. If the PSHS contract didn't exists, I might have flown to Japan ASAP.

Well, anyway, on my 25 birthday, 18th month pay, I started attending to my transfer to Japan. By September, I quit my job; and by December, right after Christmas, I went to Japan.

It was on the plane to Japan where I met my first husband. Of course, at first I didn't know he'd be my husband. Back to the topic, he was friendly, yes. But I wasn't interested. We exchanged contact numbers, just for the sake of friendliness.

Living in a foreign (add NON-ENGLISH SPEAKING) country is frustrating. I wasn't making any friends, and worse, I wasn't making any money. I couldn't find a job. My last hope for an acquaintance was the guy on the plane. And so, I called him and asked for help. He was more than willing to help. He called up a few companies, helped me with my forms, and instructed me well on how to answer questions. I was able to apply in notable companies thanks to my, by the way, dentist friend. In exchange, I helped in his clinic while waiting for my interview dates. In two weeks time, I got a job. New year, new life, new job.

I was highly paid for my minimal effort. I was happy... and was happier when Dentist and I started dating. He's gentle, kind, rich, and fun. We had one year of boyfriend-girlfriend relationship until he proposed, on his 29th birthday. Four months later, we got married. What's sweet is, it was two years after we met.

Life was going well. The clinic was making more than enough for the both of us, and my job was providing enough money for my shopping list. Life is great. No, wait... Life WAS great.

I was in the office when someone called from the hospital. My husband is dead. His student-assistants are dead, and four innocent patients are dead. Later investigations pointed the crime to a rival clinic. People I never met in my whole life were found guilty, and the rival clinic was shut down. Two months later, it was turned into a fitness gym. What I can't understand is, why didn't he tell me anything about a rival clinic, or the death threats, or the seriousness of the situation?

So, I was left alone. Alone with no husband, no kids, a house and lot, a car, a clinic, and my husband's money in the bank.

Still, life can't keep me down. I sold the clinic, since having to maintain it just reminds me of the massacre. I kept the house, however lonely it felt. I kept the car, though I didn't drive it. I kept my job, of course. Even with all my late husband's wealth, I still wanted to work. And I couldn't get myself to spending the money I didn't work for. I invested some of my savings in my friends' businesses, back in the Philippines. I don't really have anything to lose.

One rainy afternoon, in Shibuya Station, I bumped into the guy of my dreams. I forgot about him, but, there he was, standing right in-front of me. After that encounter, I tried getting his attention. I walked in-front of Johnny's Jimusho as much as I can, however far it is from my home and my office. I looked for a part-time job as a model, and I got one!

Labels: ekek, waste