Crazy Thursday

I woke up to colds yesterday. The kind that makes your nose stuffy and your throat painful. But I got up, still in my pj's, turned on my laptop and started to work. I was also fixing my schedule for this weekend, because I've got some cookie orders, the new cookie recipe I wanted to try, plus the photos I wanted to submit to this contest, the thing with my parents, and the photo shoot with Men's Health. And in between hitting the space bar and jotting notes on my notebook, I was sneezing and blowing my nose.

Then my sister (who was on her way to a weekend at the beach to set turtles free) called.

"Ate, your classmate did it again!"
"Classmate?" Sneeze. "Are you talking about Sonny?"
"Yes!!"
"He's not my classmate." Sneeze. Sniff. Sniff.
"He's not? Oh! he's my classmate."
"Right."
"He was your student once."
"Uh-huh." Sneeze.
"Oh never mind! He did it again! An Oakwood thingee!"
"WHAAATTT!?!?!?"

These are the times when I sorely wish I had a TV reception even if it's just the local channels. (I won't elaborate on what happened, but for full story just search for it on any local broadsheet website.) I listened to the AM radio over the internet, while I got ready to run errands for the day. I wanted to stay in bed, my colds were demanding that I do, but I had to buy ingredients, and get meds and fruits. So after lunch, I left, the radio tuned to DZRH, and started on my list of errands.

I got back home at 5:30PM. I immediately put on a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, and crawled under the covers. I drank my meds and plenty of water, and tried to sleep. But my phone kept ringing: my Dad asking about my essay, a friend who wanted to inform me of his new number and email, and my Dad again asking where the hell I was because there was a curfew.

That woke me up instantly. Curfew? Apparently to quell anymore "disturbances to the peace," everyone is expected to be indoors between 12MN and 5AM.

My alertness was quickly replaced by sleepiness. I didn't really care at that point. I just wanted to succumb to the meds, and sleep. I'm not the alleged corrupt one who was so panicked over a closed-door meeting with twenty armed soldiers in attendance that emptied an entire five-star hotel (okay, so it qualifies as holding it hostage); and who over-reacted by sending tankers and battalions of soldiers to break up so-called "meeting." It's actually flattering to have all these attention given to this so-called "meeting." Who holds that kind of a meeting anyway?!? Normal people sit around a table, talk, sip coffee, munch on pastries and don't require every other guests to leave, having your armed friends escort them out of the building every ten minutes.

Don't mind me, my head is still swimming with cold and flu medicine.