(Love that word, betwixt. Very high school poetry-ish.)
It was a Sunday road trip of cliches. First, it wasn’t at all a road trip–we were heading back to Manila from Pampanga, my officemates and I. Earlier this week, we had to finish our regular magazine deadlines that had us running amok, us like headless chickens trying to catch up before the publisher starts asking for our output. Good thing this Friday, we stayed at a nice hotel where had our company planning seminar. Fortunately, it felt more like a vacation than work, hence, aplenty of steady vibes.
Before we hit the road back to the city, we had a breakfast of lovely sorts, bread, cheese, salad, Japanese food, cereal, etc. Anything that our stomach could afford to digest in harmony (or disharmony). My tummy was full, thus, after a few laughs inside the van and an appreciation of the blue sky against grey bridges against green rice fields, my mind triggered sleep. I played The Sundays on my iPod (yes, I’m that literal person), and then Stone Roses before dozing off until NLEX. Eighties indiepop is my ammunition for a smooth Sunday start, a sweet punctuation for capping off a hectic week.
