Red Squiggly Lines

I overthink. 

It's bad, I shouldn't. I can tell it's bad because, as I type this out, the word "overthink" has that red squiggly line that reminds you to check your spelling. It's not even a real word. That's how I know I shouldn't do it.

But I do. And I won't stop. 

But I must. I should stop.

For the sake of something beautiful and new, I should stop. I should learn to enjoy the moment and not rely on the pleasure and satisfaction of hoping. Hope is my drug. You know how some people fear the unknown? I do, too. I just love it, too. My imagination paints this perfect picture, and that perfect picture sustains me. Of course, when the other shoe drops (the fearful shoe), I'm terrified. 

I'm addicted to the unknown. To the ecstasy of maybe and the torture of what if. 

It's not fucked up, but it's kinda weird. 

Idle hands are the overthinker's worst companions or something similar. 

I wish there were red squiggly lines that would tell me when I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing.

Lemon Curd is the Word

I started my day with a 10 AM dentist's appointment. NBD, so my trip to the dentist was over like that. After, I walked to the mall to go get my comic books. Comics are expensive but they are also very good, case in point, Marvel Zombies #1 by Si Spurrier, Kev Walker and friends, which I picked up today and featured my favorite Disney-owned Elsa (Bloodstone, not Frozen (let it go, Frozen fans)) killing un-dead versions of Marvel characters. But I digress. 

Since work would begin at 2 PM, I had time to kill. And because I didn't want to go home I decided to read and eat, two of my most-favoritest verbs. 

But where...? 

And lo, there came an idea.

lemon curd waffles

Lemon curd waffles.

LEMON CURD WAFFLES.

So I went to Yardstick.

Yardstick's Lemon Curd waffle is exquisite. I have no pictures, because when the plate is brought to me, I just gobble gobble gobble. Those waffles are great, man. They are warm and crunchy to the bite, and, when your teeth get into the thing, soft and moist. It tastes likes clouds and stardust warmed by the sun. At Yardstick, they plate them not as one big waffle, but cut into quarters and stacked one on top of the other and that is the ideal way to do it because I can pick one up like a slice of pizza and eat it with my hands. Waffles that you can eat by your hands, friends. Eating with your hands is low-key the best because who wants to use a knife and fork when you can just pick up your food and shove it into your mouth? Less Huffle, more puff, ya feel me?

The actual Lemon Curd part of the waffle is on the side, served like a dipping sauce. You can spread it on the pastry like a regular person, or you can be better and just dip the waffle pieces in, scooping up generous portions of the curd, making sure each bite you take is more curd than waffle, because I cannot get enough of that tangy, sweet, triumphant-achievement-of-human-endeavor-y thing. 

Warm, soft, sweet, tangy, angelic, heroic, perfect. Lemon. Curd. Waffles.

I walked a long way to get my waffles and it was worth it. I was drenched in sweat because Manila weather but nothing was going to stop me from getting my fix. I love Yardstick's Lemon Curd waffle. The one I had today was no exception. If you are a fan, then you are my choir and I, the preacher. If you have yet tasted this magnificent dish, let me know, I will take you there and we can experience it together.

And So My Watch Begins

Fans of the show, Game of Thrones, do not misinterpret the title of this post. I am not joining the Night's Watch. First of all, I am neither nobility serving to give honor to my house nor a criminal conscripted into service. Secondly, total sausage-fest if I join, bummer. And lastly, it's a fictional group from a fictional universe. (I definitely got the order right.)

But I am talking about doing something I'd rather not but is still ultimately for the greater good. No frigid cold to endure (if you don't count the air-conditioning) nor do I have to worry about the undead. No swords nor heavy fur coats. Tonight, and tomorrow night, I work the graveyard shift at work.

(Clearly similar to serving on The Wall, right? Hehe.)

It's a whole thing and I don't feel like I need to explain, it's just something I gots to do, ya know? Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be thrilled to do this, but now, especially after my break-up with my longtime partner (ouch), it's...still not something I'm thrilled to do, but hey at least it keeps my mind off of other less savory things.

Curse me for being an optimist. (Optimisto Patronum? Optimistulus? Optimus Prime?)

(Curse me for also being too corny.)

So here I am doing something unfamiliar but is oddly enough part of the lifeblood of the Filipino workforce, of which I belong. With BPOs and call centers necessitating this kind of work on the regular, I do not worry about experiencing this simply because a lot of people do it already.

I just like making a fuss. And I'm bored so I'd rather be doing something while waiting for my work to begin.

Interesting coping mechanisms I have for doing undesirable things. Talk, talk, talk it up. It's my overthinking self made manifest. I have to purge my brain of all these thoughts lest I go insane keeping it all inside.

So, I've less than 10 minutes before I begin. Here goes nothing. Wish me luck.