Holy Week

I’m barely feeling the holiness of the holy week because of work. I was able to ask for a break from my weekend work but my weekday work didn’t even slow down. Well, it did. No on Good Friday, but to make up for “lost production time”, Saturday is regular day. It’s evil, I know. So I told my supervisor that I will not go to work. I had to lie about it though, which is bad considering that it is the holy week – the holiest week of the year.

Under normal circumstances, I reserve this week for myself. I do my fixing and cleaning. And more importantly, I try to find time to reflect on my life. Well, the reflecting part is more like an everyday activity during work. (It’s a good thing that manual work requires very little thinking.) But reflecting on holy week is supposed to be different because it is done in the perspective of religion. I’m a Roman-Catholic, or at least I was baptized and raised as one.

However, work got in the way of my yearly tradition. It’s saddens me that work has become a priority. I know I should find time. But when your body is weak, your mind can’t actually do serious reflecting. The mind-over-matter idea does not always work.

Anyways, speaking of work, my weekday work kicked into high gear. Actually, it thought it already did a couple of weeks back when we started working 2 hours everyday. But a big order came this week. A really, really big order. I’m not even sure if it’s physically and mentally possible to satisfy the order. So as expected, management will be hiring more people, and extending working hours further. 12 hours of work sounds fun eh? If you’re in an office sitting most of the time, taking a couple of breaks, and doing heavy thinking every once in a while, it’s okay. But 12 hours in a plant? Not so much. Of course, generally, I welcome the extra time because it also means extra money for the family.

I’m just not sure how long I can sustain it. And I still have the weekend job. Ang hirap.

Come to think of it, it does feel like holy week. We have our own crosses to bear. In my case, it’s getting pretty damn heavy. Echoing a line from Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane, I recently find myself saying: "Father, if it be Thy will, take this cup away from me; yet not my will but Thine be done!" Yes, not my will. For now, at least.

How I wish I were the master of my fate and the captain of my soul, as William Earnest Henley once wrote.

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