When people ask me to define love, I say, "Love is like handing someone a gun, having them point it at your heart, and trusting them to never pull the trigger." (Sponge Bob)

When they ask me why I laugh at my mistakes and even write them with pride in my blogs, I say, "I'm not crazy. I just don't give a damn!" (Daffy Duck)

When one time I was conducting a group activity, a student asked what road sign I love the most, I said, "I like dead end signs. I think they're kind. They at least have the decency to let you know you're going nowhere…" (Bugs Bunny)

And when for the nth time a friend would ask me what do I get from writing, I'm not even sure if there are good old souls out there visiting my site, I just smile and say, "Kung gusto mong maging manunulat, eh di magsulat ka. Simple." (Bob Ong)

And last night when Eva said she wants to quit from her work because nobody believes in her, her boss got mad at her, she doesn't even have friends at her agency, and she's crying like hell, I said, "Either you stay to prove your worth or you quit and just show them you're a loser, you have to strive for your happiness." (MY original)

My CHOICES: I remained believing in love. I continued spicing up my mistakes and rewriting my life, accepting failure but keep on dreaming until words would fade into thin air.

Oct 16, 2007

CABAnata 4: The Checklist (Anxiety Could Kill!)

I am too anxious to be excited. Last week, I needed to keep myself busy about almost everything. From my reports in school, counseling schedules, Homeroom Guidance activities, preparation and proof-reading of just procured test materials for students and teachers, visualizing and making teaching aids for my demo teaching for my practicum, making reviewers for Bea for her unit test and all other stuff that has nothing to do of acknowledging the source of my anxiety, that is, attending the seminar-evaluation on potential teachers to the US at the Intercontinental Hotel.

Yes! I was so damn good hiding my anxiety that most of the people around me seem so sure I was confident I can make it. I am confident. Yes I am. I am confident that I have inadequacies in the requirements for hiring. I am confident that there are certain criteria I cannot meet. And yes, there really was. That added up to my anxiety.

Last Sunday during the seminar, I got so pre-occupied of mixed feelings that fully enveloped me from the tip of my toe nails to the farthest end of my hair. First, I worried on what to wear. I had a dilemma whether to use casual jeans or wear a coat and some formal stuff. I worried on what time to wake up and where to get my ride. I worried on how to deal with the people around the hall, the organizers and the participants. I worried whether I could make it or pass the evaluation.

By golly! I have everything to worry about.

The form was given to us. The facilitator said, we fill up every detail with accuracy. I went over first on the checklist for "highly qualified". And it said:

18 education units : check
at least 3 years teaching experience : check
student teaching/practicum : not sure (regular student teaching unit is 6, while I only have 3 units)
currently teaching : not sure (I am not certain whether my Homeroom Guidance is accepted as teaching immersion as well as my tutorial: negotiable?)
30 units subject area : what area? (SPED? I already have more than 30 units. Math? Science? Argh!)

In summary, I am NOT highly qualified!

Am I vindicated with my anxiety?

Yes, I am.

No doubt!

Could my anxiety make me more qualified?


It could kill me.

Yes it can.

I'm dead meat!

My cousin told me, "Break a leg!"

Yeah, right!

I broke that little hope in me.

Yeah, I'm dead meat!

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