Kamusta?

“Kamusta?”

Well.. it started off with rain, heavy traffic and one too many overcharged fare proposals from greedy tricycle drivers, all of which I turned down eventually. On foot we went through receding floodwaters. Had to carry a backpack, a laptop, a big heavy paper bag with lotsa stuff, a worn out umbrella, and then had to mind my kid and his lunch box all the while. Suddenly, while packed like sardines and onboard a jeepney all soaked in rain and sweat, paper bag splits open in the middle of traffic, not a tiny split but the seriously-can-things-get-any-actual-freaking-worse kind of split. Managed to turn my big jacket into a bag and packed in it all the stuff I had from the paper bag. Long ride. Son sleeping with his head tilting back and forth which I had to hold all throughout the trip while my other hand minds the rest of the stuff I’ve mentioned.

Got onto our 2nd jeepney ride like we were in an actual zombie apocalypse movie, getting on was like surviving a stampede. I had to get a little rough with my son to get him going (and wake him the heck up). Traffic. Waited. Got off.

Before our final trip home, I got my son a sandwich. I told him I was sorry. Took a tricycle and this time, the fare was at a reasonable price.

On our way home. Arms hurt. Hungry. Dead-tired more than anything else. Could’ve cried (that thank-God-it’s-almost-over kind of cry) but was too tired to do so. All I could think of was a nice warm bed and a pillow under my head.

Suddenly I find tonight’s mishap a bit hilarious that in my head I just can’t help but laugh about it.

Yea, we are all tired after a hard day’s work. But we don’t share the same kind of journey on the inside. We might share the same seat on the same ride but our emotional battles are headed to entirely different routes. You can never judge a person too easily, let alone a cranky one at the end of the day.

I haven’t been the nicest person this entire evening and I’m dearly sorry.

 

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