I love my job. On most days, I swear I do.
The people I share firewall and internet bandwidth with are the hazards of my occupation. On some days, they threaten to burst my arteries with the funniest jokes that weren’t meant to be jokes. On most days, they tug at my hair roots.
Una is in this stage of questioning — what is cooled and the difference from cold. Cleanse and cleans. Why does Giada say spaghetti as if she were a Bisaya? Is cooled the Visayan of cold? And papa does not know how to say cleans properly?
She wrote in her diary today, I went to Green belt. I walked walked walked. My foot is outchy. And on the next page, I am una and my mama is bad. She showed this entry to me and she laughed and explained that it is just a joke.
Internet, soon you will learn that she maintains a blog.
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