oops, my neurosis is showing...

Like I told you here, I looove the IG account @averageparentproblems. But the black header & footer that @mommyshorts uses on @averageparentproblems just didn't go with the natural lighting & light color palette with touches of pastel or bright pinks of the @insta2yearold sceenshots in my post. 

So in this post, I'm sharing some of @averageparentproblems' hilarious posts that didn't make the cut in my original blogpost. 

There are other even funnier posts, but I could only bring myself to include those with black accents in the photos to go with the standard black header & footer. 

I couldn't pick posts with natural, diffused lighting because I personally feel they don't go with a black frame.

I picked photos that probably used fluorescent, halogen or incandescent lighting so the shadows go with the black frame (This is probably why @mommyshorts picked that black frame... because these harsh lights are common at home where those average parent problems usually take place... especially since the photos are crowd-sourced). 

Yes, my neurosis is showing again. Gah!

Photos are screenshots of @averageparentproblems' IG posts.

Click here for the of-dots-&-things version of this post. Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series.

how styling makes a difference

I spotted this jacket from outside Zara while walking to an off-site meeting. Because this was how it was styled...

... I thought, "Who would want that jacket with that old-fashioned notch collar?!"

But there was something about the jacket that I couldn't shake. Then it hit me: I purchased the exact same jacket a few weeks ago! Because the collar wasn't folded, it looked twenty million notches younger & hipper than the dated notch collar I saw from outside Zara. 

It's amazing what the right styling can do! 

Oh, and if there are any Zara folks reading this, don't worry. This jacket was styled right the next time I visited that branch. 

Photos are my own and from Zara.com. 

oops, my neurosis is showing...

When I'm in line at the elevator and I watch the throng of people in line before me go into the elevator, I tend to think of that old game Tetris. I imagine myself arranging the people so there wouldn't be wasted spaces inside the elevator... so I could get in front of the line faster.

But when I'm inside the elevator with a different throng of people, I shudder at the idea of a perfect Tetris formation. 

Because that would mean we'd fit so well, the strangers around me would be touching me. Ugh! (And I say "ugh" because I've been jammed against sweaty strangers in the past). 

When I'm inside the elevator, I'd prefer to be in a game of Battleship than Tetris. Do you remember Battleship? Each ship stays in its own square of the grid. No two ships can occupy the same square. Oh, how I wish that could be so in the elevator at my office. I would love for the people riding up with me to be at an appropriate distance from me since everyone needs to be alone in each square of the Battleship -er, elevator, grid!

Hey, since I'm wishing anyway, might as well wish I were Pacman inside the elevator chomping away all the pellets and ghosts so I'd end up alone in the elevator to my floor. 

Hmmm, actually, might be better for the elevator to be a Space Invaders game so I don't need to ingest (Remember, I didn't even want to touch) those strangers! 

Shooting them from afar would be way better.

Yes, I have the craziest thoughts while in the looong line at my office building's elevator. Gah, my neurosis is showing again!

Photos are from here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here. 

Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series. 

dear person going to the 16th floor

Since our elevator serves only floors 16 to 24, the 16th floor is our first stop. So I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't position yourself at the very back of our cramped elevator. 

I do welcome the momentary release from the tight squashed situation here, as everyone in the rows in front of you steps out onto the 16th floor just to let you out - and then files back in after you've gone.  

Because I'm itching for the more permanent release from the cramped elevator situation by getting to my floor, I'd really prefer to make the stops before mine as short and sweet as possible. And 10 people filing out of the elevator to your no-matter-how-sweet "excuse me" (to get us out of your way) makes the stop at your floor long and bitter.

So, dear person getting off on the 16th floor, please don't position yourself at the very back of the elevator. If you happen to be the first one in the elevator, please stay to the side, by the elevator buttons, so you can easily slip out at the first stop. 

Photo from annniegirl. 

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series. Click here for previous posts on my elevator situation at my new office.

Today, I am unloving...

Noah goes back to school next week. So today, I am unloving... that summer vacation is ending because I will miss staying up late in bed with Noah talking about the oddest random things. 

During the past two months, because I didn't need to get him fed, bathed and sleeping by 830pm, we could have the longest conversations. Once, he brought up wanting to live in the US instead of the Philippines. So I enlightened him on the pros of living in the Philippines. We also talked about the cons of living in either country. This led to a conversation about our third-world state and what got us here. But the best part is that we got to talking about what we (and in the future, he) can do to make the Philippines a better place to live in. :)

Another night, we were talking about me going to work the next day. He pretend-cried and said, "You don't love me. You want to leave me." So I asked him if him leaving for playdates or sleepovers with his buddies meant he didn't love me. Of course it didn't, so he got my point. Then he said, I wish we were super rich so you don't need to work so we can buy stuff. I realized then, that our rushed conversations during school nights led him to the wrong idea about work. When he would tell me not to go to work, I would respond with, "How will I afford to buy you Legos?" or something like that to cut our conversation short and get him to sleep. But since it was summer and we could stay up all night, I got a chance to tell him I work because I love what I do. And I got to tell him that he needs to figure out what he loves to do and make that his career. Of course, he still maintains he wants to be a YouTuber when he grows up. Gah!

On a different night, Noah asked who puts money in the bank so Isabella can get money from the ATM. So I launched into how bank accounts work. This led to me showing him my BPI mobile app which led to a conversation about savings accounts, loans and investments. 

Things I never thought would be kid-friendly topics figured into our nightly conversations just because one convo led to another then to another. And this was only possible because we had all night. 

But when school starts, I'll be back to cutting our convos short, in a panic to get him to bed on time. I will certainly miss the learning opportunities in our conversations. So today, I am unloving that Noah and I will no longer have time for our long, random, insightful conversations. 

Photo from nyctaughtme.

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series.

dear Cheetos

You know I love you! You are my daily after-dinner snack. I'd have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner too if I just wasn't afraid for my health.

I hate that I cannot go on any of those diets (South Beach, Cohen, Atkins, etc) because none of them will allow you in it... Because I seriously can't live without you. 

I just wish you could learn to keep our love affair our little secret. If you were broadcasting our love to the world with a 2-carat diamond ring on my finger, maybe I wouldn't mind. But orange stains on my thumb and index finger certainly pale (no matter how orange) in comparison. Somehow, it's hard to look professional in boardroom meetings the morning after our dinner date with orange fingers.

So my ever dearest Cheetos, could you please keep my love for you our little secret?

Photo from here.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series. 

why i'm blogging again

People ask me why I'm blogging again after a 2-year hiatus. Is it because I'm bored (in a whale?!) and have nothing to do?

Is it because I've been feeling lonely and in need of my old positivity journal?

Or is it because my mom has been missing my blog so much that I'm doing this for her?

The reality is it's because I'm trapped in bad traffic more going to my new office vs. my old one.

And I discovered the Blogger app.

So now, I no longer panic while sitting in traffic that I might be late for work...

... because I pass the drive, er- standstill time blogging. 

Photos from heritage and my screenshot of my Blogger app.

Today, I am unloving...

So I turned 40 last February. For a whole year before, my friend A kept telling me that "It's like clockwork. The day you hit 40, your eyesight deteriorates." For a whole year, I was constantly teased about getting reading glasses as my 40th birthday gift.

Thankfully, I didn't get reading glasses as my present. And it didn't seem like I needed them. I was reading perfectly fine, thank you very much!

Until, on a whim, I tried my friend A's reading glasses... And it was, literally, eye-opening. The text on my phone (my only reading material during that night at Barcino's) seemed larger, sharper, clearer! I was shocked.

A week later, when the shock  (and denial) wore off, I had my eyes checked. And... [sob!]... I do need reading glasses!

Today, I am unloving that the "oldometer" really is like clockwork. And that I need to read any scale - oldometer or other - with (gah!) reading glasses!

Photo from heritage.

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series.

the up button is getting me down

The elevators in my very old office building serve different floors. But the Up buttons control all 5 elevators rather than say, just the one that stops on my floor. So when one elevator opens at the ground floor, the Up button lights of all 5 elevators turn off. 

I guess the assumption is that that one elevator is sufficient to serve the ground floor riders. But in the morning, there are 5 long lines of people at the ground floor waiting to go up to one of the 24 floors in our building.

So the people at the front of the lines at the other elevators need to be alert. They need to press the Up button as soon as the elevator that just stopped at the ground floor moves up. Because if the Up buttons stay unlit and an elevator skips the ground floor, the person at the front of the line will get dagger looks from everyone behind him.

But what gets me in a panic is when my elevator is neck-in-neck with another elevator. When that other elevator stops at the ground floor and people are piling in, my elevator from the basement ends up skipping the ground floor. So I have to wait all over again for my elevator to go up to the 24th floor and back down while hoping the other elevators don't pass the ground floor just a few seconds again before my elevator. So imagine my panic when people are piling in so slowly into the other elevator while I see my elevator inching up... B4... B3... B2... B1... Get in, people!!... 

And the tricky thing is that you need to wait for the right time - for the other elevator to start moving up - before pressing the Up button. If you press it too early, the other elevator's door re-opens and it ends up stopping at the ground floor even longer! Gah!!!

Who would have thought an Up button could make me feel so down?

Photo is of a postcard I got from a cool art shop in Vietnam.

Click here for more of my elevator woes.

Today, I am unloving...

Isabella is going to college this coming schoolyear so she will be taking driving lessons before the summer ends. 

I can't help feeling ripped off by the fact that she will be taking lessons to drive an automatic. Having taken lessons at A1 Driving School the summer before college myself, there seemed to be way better value for money learning to drive a car with manual transmission. Now that they don't need to teach the lessons on shifting gears, on getting the right rhythm of releasing the clutch and stepping on the gas (in other words, "making timpla") and on driving on an incline ("hanging"), I'm not really sure what lessons I'm going to be paying for on an automatic.

Okay, okay, they may not bring her to steep inclines...

but they''ll make her drive in busy thoroughfares... 

... (I got honking-jeepney-and-bus-filled North Edsa on my Day 1 years ago!) which I would never do if she took driving lessons from me. And yes, they'll still have to teach her to parallel-park. 

Still... the absence of the manual gear shift just seems to eliminate the lesson that requires the most teaching. And somehow, it doesn't seem to be "real" driving when you don't know how to shift gears. That seems to be the essence of driving - feeling your car's power, knowing the right moment to shift gears as you speed up on the highway.

So today, I am unloving... that Isabella's driving lessons may teach her how to maneuver her car around the city, but it might not teach her the true essence and joy of driving. 

Photos from annniegirl and americanhoney.

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series.

oops, my neurosis is showing...

As you might know from here, I've been enjoying my new grown-up's coloring book. But I have to admit that when I started out, it kind of tested my decision-making skills.

After coloring in one part, so many thoughts flooded my head: Which color do I use next? Which warm color do I put beside this cool color? Should I pair it with its complementary color or not? 

With all these decisions, coloring a page took a while. Until I started a ROYGBV color scheme...

Coloring rainbow-style made it easier to choose which color to use next! So I've been obsessed with it.

Gee, I wonder when I'm ever going to finish this non-ROYGBV page now...

Oops, my neurosis is showing again.

Photos are my own and from here.

Click here for the of-dots-&-things version of this post. Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series.

Today, I am unloving...

Today - okay, for 7 weeks now, I have been unloving the whole cramped elevator situation in the office. In almost 2 decades working, turns out it's my first time to work in a central business district, in a high-rise office building, so the overstuffed elevator experience is new to me.

Everyday, while I'm thinking to myself that we're already packed like sardines in the elevator and no one else can possibly fit, more people push themselves inside.

It reminds me of that old sequence on Sesame Street where one, two, three... all the way to ten clowns come out of a tiny car. Well, that's how I see my elevator experience: like the clown car routine - in reverse! How in the world is that possible?!

I wouldn't mind being part of the audience watching the amazing circus routine. But this time, I'm one of the clowns getting squashed inside the elevator! 

Now I know how my clothes (and shopping loot) on out-of-the-country trips feel like in my overstuffed luggage. Gah!

Today, I am unloving... the overstuffed elevator situation in the office everyday.

Photos from annniegirl and deliciouslyorganized.

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series. Click here for my previous post on another elevator peeve.

dear woman in a ponytail in my office elevator

I wish you would think of your ponytail as another appendage. Because truly, it is as much an extension of you as your arm is. With a ponytail, your hair is not flat against the back of your head. It extends further away from your body than if you just wore it down.    

I know hair doesn't have nerve endings so you don't feel what your hair touches. But in a jam-packed elevator, your ponytail - no matter how beautifully messy - brushes against my face. Worse, when you look up to see what floor the elevator is on (on darn, almost every floor), your ponytail bobs up and down, that it feels like it's mopping my face.

Granted, I've only had 6 weeks experience riding crowded elevators to work everyday. I'm hoping that my too-far-reaching personal space will eventually be more accepting of the uncomfortable close proximity of strangers in the elevator. But I doubt I'll ever get used to your hair swishing around on my face. Your hair, literally in my face, is much too close for comfort. 

So tomorrow, could you maybe hold onto your ponytail so your hair stays within your personal space instead of invading mine?

Photo from acupofjo.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series.