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One. Just when I wanted to sleep longer on Sunday, I was awakened by an unfamiliar loud voice from the kitchen around 11am. Someone's sharing her story about her experience from the past night's dating marathon. I guess it was time to get up then, eh? I am just thankful that I am not working on a graveyard shift. No harm done, anyway. Take this as it is, it's just that it is not always that I get to sleep longer than 5 hours.
The rain hasn't stopped since Saturday and I didn't really have any plan for Sunday except for hearing mass any time of the day and probably meet up with DM, P and RG at The Podium in the afternoon (which I did by the way). I did not set my alarm when I slept around 2am hoping I'd have enough sleep. Although 9-hour sleep is enough, my eyes felt the opposite. I cried when I watched Memoirs of Geisha before I slept the night before. That explains my tired and a little bit swollen eyes-- the more that I wanted to get some more sleep, if not of the thought that I'd be throwing away my whole Sunday if I don't get up right away. Up I was anyway.
Two. I missed my last train-ride home and two buses.
Upon hearing the announcement that the last train going south will arrive in a few minutes, I ran fast to get to the southbound MRT station, even took the stairs two steps at a time. I was determined to catch the last train home, only to be told by the guard that I was too late, the last train has arrived. I saw that. If only I could ask them to wait for me-- I was only 15 steps late! I should have taken the stairs three steps at a time!
I guess, some things are not meant to be. That's what I was telling myself while at the stairs. I have but one option to go home and that's a bus ride.
Three. So I waited for a bus, just down the MRT station. My only prayer then was that I'd have a fast bus-ride home as I was already sleepy. Then again, one bus passed by and another. The coffee did not kick in, I was really sleepy. It's either I missed the two buses that could bring me home or the buses have missed me. Either way, I missed two buses!
"Not meant for me...," I kept on telling myself for each bus that I missed (or that has missed me). Just like I wasn't meant to sleep the whole day on Sunday.
I could rant about these things but I don't think I wanted to. It was a fun day despite of the rain. From hearing mass to praying the rosary at my favorite chapel; from my MRT ride to Megamall to meeting up with DM in Ortigas station; from walking from Megamall to The Podium and meeting up with P and RG; from trying the free-taste of this one Russian kiosk of cookies to deciding where to have dinner; from sharing a Chicago stuffed pizza and lemon(ed) fish omelette with DM to having dinner with P and RG; from the little discussion with the couple about their wedding to some out of topic inputs; and last but not the least, having coffee with DM at Starbucks.
These things, including the missed zzzZZZs and some ride home, may not happen again. I am just glad that my day turned out well-- and I believe it was by choice.
Sometimes we have to decide how we'd take and accept the things that were given to or taken from us. It could be as serious as getting a chocolate-brown gown instead of a white one (when the event is just a few days away). It could be a ghost from your past that kept on haunting you, or a wish left not granted. And it could be as shallow as the things that I have missed on Sunday.
My point is (read carefully as not everyone gets this), I don't have the control over a lot of things outside my world. People may throw stones at me, some will try to disturb my inner peace. Some things will hinder my growth. Some dreams may never come true. Some battles will be lost. Bridges, burnt. Strings, cut. But just like anybody else (just like what my Values Education teacher has told us), I was given a free-will.
My fate, I could either accept it or rant about it the rest of the day. My life, it is up to me to control it. I could ruin it, make it, or break it. I could even snooze over it.
My life, at the end of each day, when some things are not meant to be, is meant to be because I was given a choice: to be or not to be.
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I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by 
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