Mea Culpa : Epilogue

Comrade, originally uploaded by scrEaMing mANgo.

I should stop explaining myself to people.

Did Just that.

Mea Culpa.

From now on, my loyalty is to my family and friends. Employment will be strictly on a professional level only.

It’s a problem with dogs like me. Loyal to a fault. But loyal dogs, when untended and neglected can turn rabid. It’s the scheme of things.

Mea Culpa.

Nobody’s fault but mine.

I clung too long on emotional attachments. Four years doing all sorts of things just to keep the flow and yet still just a referral? I should really have left when I needed to. But going over several (read: huge) applicants, one-day attendees, transient employees should have told me something about my job description. Hell, even in the programming side, very few stuck around, all the good ones that remain are either just trying to get through or waiting for the climate to change.

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda.

And for a company that deals with communication, they are very uncommunicative nowadays. Understandable, in fact, because they are not used to having ex-employees snap back at them.

So now what do I do? Move on.

My professionalism was in question. Who’s being unprofessional now?

I gained freedom.

They will be going through applicants for the rest of the year, replacing those that will leave, or worse, those that reported for work but never came back.

Mea Culpa.

Time to forgive myself for being such a lousy loyal schmuck.

Like A Relationship Gone Haywire

It happened.

Mea Culpa.

But, as they say, it takes two to argue. But I’m not arguing. My bad. I screwed up and now I’m left to tend for myself. Years ago ( decades, really) I vowed never to work in Makati. But I did. And fell in love with it. But all things, all good things must end. But endings are never really sweet. In fact it left a sour taste in my mouth. I thought I was good enough for the company. I thought my extra hours without asking for extra pay meant something. I thought those extra tasks that were clearly not on my turf meant something. But like those good relationships, something always breaks them in two ( cue Joe Jackson, please). I never could understand. But I can accept.

Mea Culpa.

I should heve left a couple of years ago. I should have told them I need to earn more. Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda.

Mea Culpa.

I fell in love with Makati. I fell in love with the good people I work with. These guys are the best. They welcomed this old man with open arms and open minds. I should have left them early on.

Mea Culpa.

Leaving was hard. Being told to leave was harder still. It happened both ways. Me intending to leave and the bigwigs wanted me out. It was simple.

It was painful.

Mea Culpa.

I would love to think I left my mark. I would love to know that I contributed something.

But I would love to get a better paying job to pay the bills, support my extended family and basically do what humans do: Live, not just exist. Not just filling in timecards and watching the clock.

Mea Culpa.

Nobody’s fault but mine. ( I could feel Robert Plant singing . . . )