My Life… My Thoughts

Now I am a certified Food Protection Manager. I took the test last month with 2 of my officemates and passed.  The test was just a tad more difficult than the GMP tests we used to give to production workers in my previous company.  I’m saying that the test was easy…. not because I am a food technologist, but mainly because the examiner was very lenient.

But anyway, as I was doing my usual SSOP routine this morning, I saw one of the employees drop a pizza shell on the floor and tried to put it back in stock.  I immediately rushed to him and told him that products who have been subjected to such condition should automatically be thrown away.  The warehouse supervisor saw this and he disagreed saying that we would be short 1 more item.  Besides, according to him, I am wasting the ingredients used to make that product.  But heck, food safety cannot be compromised!  I vehemently opposed this and so we had a little argument.  I ended up throwing the "contaminated" shell and he couldn’t do anything because it was already in my hands.  So this is what being a food protection person meant.  Everyone is going to hate you. Though I am not an alien to such situation, it is still distressing to note how people can be so careless in handling food.  Since this is the career I chose, I should be able to withstand all the negative things that come with it.

huh. I can only sigh.

I had a "meltdown" last week.  I was dealing with an abominable character at work and for some reason, all my frustrations brought me into tears.  That, after I had a shouting bout with this person.  I always resort to this kind of behavior whenever I am frustrated or angry.  Does that make me a drama queen?  Ha!

My boss, who was on vacation when the incident happened resolved the incident yesterday.  He knows that the character I dealt with is the way he is and he advised me to understand him and try as much as I can to make things work.  He even coaxed me into joining a seminar which can possibly help me deal with the stresses of work.

At first I was skeptical. But guess what?  I’m going.  Who knows, it might stop the tears from falling whenever I am faced with a difficult situation. 

Wait, I just had a realization.  Maybe this is what the eyebags are for, and if I don’t cry too much, they will shrink in due time.  Yeah, I know it’s a stupid realization.  I’m bored and just messing around.

P.S.  I was aiming for a dramatic effect on this photo, but ended up getting cross-eyed.

Holy cow!  Is this a sign of old age?  As I was trying to capture a self-portrait, I couldn’t help but notice my all-too-visible eyebags.  If I had stayed up all night or lost some sleep, I could’ve put it to rest.  But no, I was fully rested.  Why the hell are my eyebags still showing up?  A couple of days back, I got this eye mask and put it on before going to bed.  But still, it didn’t help.  My eyebags are still as prominent as ever.  Now I know why people are terrified of growing old. 

I know I have a lot of imperfections.   But if I had to go under the knife, my eyebags would be the first thing I’d go for.  It has become an eye sore.

I do not have the cleanest and most organized place, but I hate it when I try to clean and organize an area while other people mess it up.  A couple of weeks ago, I bought a nice table cloth with matching placemats, a microwave cover, cute plastic containers for the lunch boxes, hand sanitizers and disposable sanitizing materials for our employee breakroom.  I arranged it nicely and somehow showed people how we should keep it clean and tidy.  A break room should be cathartic.. or relaxing.  (I guess cathartic is too strong and too dramatic a word for a breakroom.)  Everything should be pleasing to the eyes to provide a short relaxation from the stresses of work.    It was okay for awhile.  But guess what? Things started disappearing and the room was back to its usual clutter this morning.  What the heck!  Can’t we at least keep it clean and tidy for a month?  Damn.

I am not obsessive compulsive.  I could live with a little clutter here and there, but I just hate it when things don’t go my way.  I think I’m a control freak.  But who cares?  That room has to be tidied tomorrow or else……well okay, I will tidy it myself.

It is freaking hot, and my allergies are acting up.  I woke up with a humongous right eye bag this morning.  Weird.  I tried to look for an evidence of an insect bite but could not find any.  I guess I ate something bad or was sleeping on my right side too long.  It seems like all the the tears from my eyes were all stored in my right eye bag.I know I slept late last night.  I know I came close to crying.  (Yeah, my melodramatic self is acting up again.) But it couldn’t be the reason for my eyebags to swell.  Oh crap!

Inasmuch as I love summer, I oftentimes detest the heat.  This should have been the best temperature for my tropical skin but it’s not to my liking.  The mailman just walked in and he was also complaining of the heat.  I realized that I am in a better position than he is because his job entails him to be out in the sun the whole day.  He even commented that this is like a sampler of what hell would be like.  He said he is being trained to adapt to this kind of environment so that when he gets there, he would already be used to it.  Then it made me realize, would I want to spend eternity in  this kind of environment?  Hell, No.

He calls me beautiful.  I know it must be music to my ears but for some reason it makes me cringe.  Too romantic. Too unbelievable. Too good to be true. He treats me nicely and gave me a beautiful rose the first time we met.  I always tell him to stop flattering me and get real.  He told me that this is who he is and if he was nice to me, I better get used to it.  I am not used to it.  All the guys I dated are the opposite of him.  I must be a masochist because I always go for the "bad guys."  What’s wrong with me?

Now he is gone.  I must’ve hurt his feelings.  This was what he said: " I am a good man, babe. Don’t break my heart."  And I did.

Most of the workers in the factory where I work are non-english speakers. Out of habit, they usually play pranks on each other.  I was in the production area one time when I noticed an 8"x11" paper with a monkey’s face and some words written on it.  I moved closer to read what was written.  The writings went:  "Se Rebusca (monkey’s picture) Roberto…..Recompensa 1,000 penis." 

It was supposed to say: "Wanted Roberto….Reward 1,000 pennies. " Whew!  What a difference a misspelled word can make.

I turn 30 today.  When I was younger, the thought of 30 is old.  My mexican co-worker asked me how old I was and when I told him my real age, he was a little surprised.  He said I look 22.  I was flattered.  It is my first birthday here and my boss told me that I am allowed one paid birthday leave.  Since I showed up for work today, I already forfeited it.  But then he promised to pay me one extra day instead.  Cool.  I needed more cash.

But the real reason why I didn’t want to take a leave was because I really have nowhere to go and no one to  be with.  I am normally an active person and I’m afraid that if I would just stay home and bum around, I might end up wallowing in my loneliness.  What a life!  I miss home.  I miss my family. I miss my friends.

But then again, this was the choice I made—one I have to live with.   I could get fired for blogging during office hours but everyone was so easy on me considering that it’s my birthday.  I could only be thankful for all those people who made this day special.  But most of all, I have to thank HIM for granting me another year to enjoy his creation.

"Miming"  I called her as I was about to close the gate.  I expected her to run away or turn her back on me but she uttered a soft meow instead and came towards me.  It was the first time we met.  She was just taking a walk and happened to chance on me at the porch.  I asked how she was and she responded that she has been well.  She looked like she understood every word I said since the moment I finish talking, she talks back.  I really don’t have any idea what she was talking about but interpreted it into something I wanted to hear.  We seemed like we were in deep conversation.  Yes, the fat black cat and me.

I told her to come back tomorrow so we can talk some more.  She said she would. Same place, same time.

All of a sudden, I thought about doing a google search for my last name just to find out where I really came from.  Not that I don’t know my roots, but I was just curious if my name meant anything.  And what do you know……there’s a viral spray called BANTOL!  This is the funniest link I’ve ever found. 

VK 99?  Virus Killing action: 99%?  Wow! 

So better watch out, viruses, BANTOL kills all flu viruses on contact.  Deadly. lethal.