*When Sunday is taken as the first of every week, the day in the middle of each week is Wednesday. Arising from this, the German name for Wednesday has been Mittwoch (literally: "mid-week") since the 10th Century, having displaced the former name: Wodanstag ("Wodan's day").
- Wiki-grabbed by a very lazy, feverish writer.
***
The perfect recipe for a fever requires:
- A broken umbrella. Quaixi (it could be Bee Ghiao or Li Zhiou) of top Chinese quality, sold beside Maxx candies and cigarettes. Fifty pesos each (but if you're wearing a scandalous skirt, you can get it for P45 and a fake number). These umbrellas are good for 2 and a half storms at best. Can be conveniently "left" in a bus if it fails to open (or to close).
- Jeepney driver with an auditory impairment. This is what happens if one listens to all of Aegis' albums, stereos fully blast, all day. It's not enough to say "para" once or twice, in conversation decibels. It must be screamt at least 8 times. And by the eighth "Para ho!!!" he drops you off 15-20 meters from where you wanted to alight. The only people who get off the jeep right on time are stunt men.
- Mad rains, and winds to make the downpour tilt at a 45-degree angle, making the rain drops hit stronger because there would be a vertical and horizontal component to the force (one of the useless things I learned in College Geometry).
- A waterproof jacket that happens to be NOT waterproof.
***
It's no secret that I love Wednesdays. He needs to be in Makati schoolboy early, lest he wants to have encounters with the friendly guys in blue (MMDA Labs You). So we have breakfast on Wednesdays. It's Jollibug always, the one in our building, as I need to be in for work right on the dot. He says he's willing to bear food monotony for a little more time with me. I try not to find this sweet, but I fail.
6 am. Confirmed.
I've trained Besty to dance at 4 am. I wake up burning. All, yes, all of our 8 cats were snuggled to me for warmth, the way they gather around the back of our ref. I am their fireplace. I try to shout at them but I only let out a croak. I beg for more shuteye and hit the 10-minute snooze button.
It was 6:09 when I wake up. Hollow blocks were all over my body. The cats were gone. I look at my phone. An SMS from him. 5:44 a.m. - Are you awake? He's a seer. He must've known that I won't make it.
I taste phlegm. An attempt to rise, but it looks like I'm too weak to brush my teeth. I tell him that. I apologize profusely. Fortunately, my vitamins are on my bedside table. Three tabs of 500 mg Vitamin C on my tongue. I text Glenda that I'm rendering half day. An hour flies, I get acid reflux. I don't know if it's due to my anxiety over G not replying, or me having ascorbic acid for breakfast, or me missing another Wednesday with him.
I sleep some more. Still no word from the boss. She's most likely going through some rework I generated.
He says "It's ok." I feel better.
Fever and hyperacidity, coughs that give my temples misery. Miraculously, I was dressed (rather shabbily) by 10 a.m. I don't have to dry my hair, it will not be dry when I go out. It looks like fear of G's chagrin is a good anti-fever and antacid.
DISCLAIMER: I don't hate my boss. I can't.
***
"Next to doing a wheelbarrow, the best rush-of-blood-to-the-head is drying your hair with a hand dryer."
"You should do that more often."
I dare not ask what he was referring to.
***
All this, and I still love Wednesdays.
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