So I didn’t get to do anything that I set out to do, aside from daily bodily routines & the going-out part. No readings were grabbed; not one tomato was bought from the market. Not a single errand was done, and what I did get to do I didn’t even plan. All I managed to do was sit around for a little over 3 hours with one of my best friends (whom I have not had the chance to talk to in the past few days) and talk endlessly about music, Daft Punk and her. There had also been a short encounter with two of my favorite professors, wherein they caught up with my personal life (because of course they do that). Overall, it was a counterproductive day, if there was ever such a thing. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though.
I had just stepped off the jeep in front of the campus when I saw a familiar bag walking towards the nearby Convention Center. On instinct, I wailed out his name like a dying banshee. He of course did not hear my shriek; upon closer inspection, I found that he was wearing his earphones. We converged at the crossing, and he decided to walk back to the campus with me.
At the library, I found that there were more people going out than in (it would be more accurate to say that nobody was going in) and so I naturally pussied out, thinking that the library was already closed. I wasn’t up to rummaging in my bag for my ID anyway. We went back up the the main grounds and found one of the two professors we spotted walking together earlier. Sir waved us over and got talking with us, and after a few minutes we were joined by Ma’am, who gaily joined in on the querulous conversation. We soon parted ways, and me and my friend walked to the canteen, where I got some junk food, and thus proceeded to walk to the shed, where we sat and began our 3-hour conversation, which is a usual thing.
As is the way with our conversation, I did most of the talking. I blabbered about the magic and mystery of Daft Punk, about her, about writing, and blogging. It’s not that he doesn’t have much to say, I think. It’s more like he understands how much I have to let these things out, because I can’t handle them being stuck in my head, where they’re bound to fester like an oozing wound if left untended to. Which is why he is my best best friend. Seriously, there can be such a thing.
And so that was how the day went: we walked, we sat, we talked, and we went our separate ways. By the time we blew the joint, it was already 7PM and the station was bound to be deserted by then, so I had to run without getting any supplies. I passed by a fast food joint and took fries & a float out to the terminal, and ate in the jeep as we zoomed along on the busy, rain-slicked streets of Baguio. It wasn’t productive at all, I can say that much, but it was a good day. I’ll count it as a win.