I’m Serious About This Fish Thing

I did say in a previous post that we had five pet fish in the house–four little orange ones of a breed I don’t know, and a Betta. Two days ago, that population was reduced to just one–the Betta.

Last Tuesday morning, I held the wide-mouthed fish food container sideways towards my son and asked him to take a pinch of pellets out and drop them in the bowl . I didn’t think anything could go wrong. We had done this countless times. For some reason, though, Jed decided to be a little playful with how he put his fingers in the container. I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but he ended up accidentally dropping way more pellets than needed.

From where I was standing, it didn’t look like an alarming and dangerous amount. I thought about changing the water anyway, but I was running late for work so I just decided to change the water when I got back.

While I was at work, I did not get a single call or text that the water had turned murky. Or that the small fish had all died! When I saw the fish bowl that night, it looked like a bowl of sinigang. The small fish were only visible because they were floating right by the glass. The Betta, which was still alive and swimming very slowly, could only be seen if it happened to swim close enough to the glass. The water looked that bad and it reeked.

I rushed downstairs and transferred the Betta into a jar of clean water I had prepared for changing and gave it some food. I wasn’t really sure if I was supposed to feed it. I was just panicking at that point. After I cleaned the bowl (with my tears!), I put him back in it and that’s when I noticed that his appearance had changed.

His fins and tail, which used to be a combination of red, orange, and violet, had turned gray. They looked translucent and frail, like sheets of paper that were about to tear. His body had turned mostly black and only had very little of its normal blue color remaining near the head. But the little guy kept swimming. It was a bit slower than his normal pace, but he was swimming.

The following day, I was happy to see that he had recovered all of his beautiful colors and was himself again. I tried explaining to my son that the feeding incident killed the small fish. I don’t think he understands, though. This morning, he was still looking for the other fish.

I, on the other hand, am officially adopting this Betta.



It breaks my heart whenever I hear about how politicians and their families are living so extravagantly when they can’t even automate or at least digitize BIR’s RDO transfer procedure.

One day late last month, I traveled a total of four hours to process an RDO transfer, which took under ten minutes to complete–from queuing to signing, and lots of forceful rubber stamping in between.

I remember that because I just noticed an error with my date of birth on my Pag-Ibig MDF that wasn’t there before. I also don’t understand why they still don’t have my legal husband’s name listed as my spouse, although 1) I already requested to add that information before, complete with marriage certificate; 2) I am already marked Married; and 3) he’s already listed as a beneficiary, labeled husband.

I mean sure, we’ve been estranged for over two years and anything with his name in it would only sound good to me if “Obituary” were in it too, but we’re still legally married. I’d hate to have such an oversight taken against me and I wouldn’t want that to cause problems with loans, claims, or anything else I have to process with Pag-Ibig in the future.

I’ve tried changing the information online but it instructed me to process the corrections and present the relevant documents at a Pag-Ibig office. They reassured me, though, that I didn’t need to worry because I could just have an authorized representative do it for me. Great! The only thing I hate more than processing anything government-related myself is asking someone else to do it for me.

Take note, I don’t hate having someone else do it. I hate asking someone else to do it for me. Dyahe. Unless I had an assistant and my conscience were willing to negotiate.

That’s why the glorified robbers in public office have so many assistants. If you think about it, the assistants are investments. The politician steals and allots some of the booty to hiring and maintaining assistants. That way, he remains blind to the effects of his illegal activities and is able to keep stealing!

Boy, are these people smart.

Death by Powerpoint

Earlier this year, I decided to switch careers and finally pursue what I’ve loved for the longest time–writing. However, the fact that my professional writing experience was the size of a chicken nugget meant my chances of getting hired were even smaller. Therefore, as Plan B, I applied as secretary/executive assistant.

Boy, am I happy that I got hired as a copywriter. Until today, my love for writing was the only reason I was happy to get the job. But as I put together a 70-slide presentation this morning, I realize there’s a second reason: I suck at Powerpoint, which would probably be what I would mostly be doing today if I became a secretary.

Many jobs like researching, writing reports, working in customer service, and chopping firewood are daunting, yes, but putting together a good Powerpoint presentation is something else entirely. Half of our popes and saints wouldn’t be who they are now if they had to do Powerpoint presentations back then. Osama bin Laden would’ve committed suicide years before he bumped into his first terrorist contact if he encountered Powerpoint as a child.

The fact that I didn’t receive any response at all to my secretarial job applications despite that I had more professional experience in it than in writing leads me to believe that Jobstreet has the psychic ability to let companies know who each applicant really is. It probably attaches a kind of summary to each resume and mine probably said: “Dying to write. Not God-like enough to make nice Powerpoint presentations.”

Well, I’m not complaining.