(In which my sister’s insensitivity strikes again.)
I am a student of the Graduate School in the University of the Red Warriors – and quite a responsible one, modesty aside. I do my homework, submit papers on time and participate in discussions. I do my best to fulfill my responsibilities even if it will cause me less time to sleep and another battle to survive a day in the office. But you see, I was able to do my tasks – without having a computer of my own.
Sometimes, no, I always feel guilty whenever I have to do all my reflection papers and statistical computations on my office computer after and sometimes, during class when I was supposed to be teaching. I know it’s unfair. I sometimes get to work two hours earlier than my schedule to have more time to do my school works. I feel like I’m getting paid for teaching for several hours and taking advantage of the office equipments in completing my requirements for the sake of earning units in my Graduate studies.
Last week, I was so bombarded with papers and due dates that every day seemed to be an impossible day. Imagine having to calculate F tests and T tests in statistics using dummy data for a mock research while sneaking some food into your mouth and checking on your clock to see if it’s time to call the next student. Or discreetly typing some sentences on your reflection paper while the student is reading a story. Now that’s multitasking. I just love the thought that my bosses aren’t reading this post.
So I feel so pathetic that I can’t believe I have almost made it to the first semester of my Graduate studies without the aid of a personal computer listed in my Statement of Assets. That’s why I asked my sister who owns a notebook computer because of her benevolent boyfriend’s generosity. At this point, I would like to thank my MP4 player/flash drive for letting me down just when I need its service the most.
But I have the temporary access to my sister’s computer and I started writing the rest of the historical and contextual background of our research in psychology, browsing some newspaper articles and similar researches hours after arriving from school on a late Saturday evening, when she started asking me questions about the recent death of our latest puppy. You read it right baby. Two dead dogs in just one year. I can’t believe we’re that bad pet owners. But you have to believe me, we loved our pets so much and we took care of them to the best of our capacity. I just don’t know how and why things like that happened the same way as my sister does since she doesn’t stay in the house.
I answered her first batch of questions coolly and went back to my research. I thought I have given her a satisfactory report on how the poor thing died as well as enough hints that I need to pay attention to what I am doing that constant disturbance is the last welcome thing. However, she began asking me questions, one after another. I felt so exasperated that I was giving loud sighs before I start each sentence after a pause. It’s the kind of sigh that says “I don’t know why I have to explain this to you. Can I do it some other time because as you can see, I’m busy?”
Go ahead. Tell me I’m mean. But can you blame me when I lose patience because of a person who is so insensitive that she doesn’t see that I need to do an important thing? That she has all the time in the world to ask me those tear-jerking questions before I start writing yet chose to ask them in the wrong time?
She noticed my annoyance and started to get annoyed as well.
“Why are you sighing so loudly? I am just asking!”
“Yeah, you are. But didn’t I tell you what happened already? It seems like you’re trying to blame – ”
“Ewan ko sa ‘yo. Monster!” and she mumbles words that sounded to me as if they are words of protest and Lord knows what else. But it wasn’t surprising. She’s the kind of person who acts this way in this situation when she snaps readily at anyone who dared to disturb her in her busy moments.
I sighed, this time louder, but internally. ”Yes, I’m a monster. And you are a tech savvy princess who talks to me as if I don’t know how to use a computer when you don’t know how to attach a file to an e-mail and write your resumé.”
As you might have guessed, I was so upset that I ended up writing this post instead of finishing my research background.