August 07, 2004
through the blurry looking glass
But what does this glimpse consist of? Never mind precision, for one can never really be precise. What matters is that one has an idea of what's in store for him or her in the future. Whatever piece of the mystery is made available at this time will surely help in preparing one for the shocks that may soon come looming ahead.
In the next 3 months, I glimpse myself seated in an airconditioned room in the US Embassy, taking the first of several tests for the actuarial track I plan to pursue.
In the next 7 months, I glimpse myself dressed in a flowing blue toga, coming up onstage to acknowledge the fact that I have just graduated.
In the next 9 months, I glimpse myself in a boarding house in Makati, excited at the prospect of interior designing my room, and even more excited at the prospect of my next-door neighbors. :)
In the next 10 months, I glimpse myself dazed at the actuary in front of me, awed at the certificates he has on the wall behind him.
In the next 12 months, I glimpse myself huddled in my desk, sifting through "important" documents, a cup of brewed coffee on one hand and an inspiring text message in my cellphone on the other. :)
In the next 24 months, I glimpse myself returning to the Ateneo with a nostalgic heart, moving through the hallways of the dorm, meeting 2 years' worth of new faces, and 2 years' worth of old ones.
In the next 48 months, I glimpse myself seated in a bustling airport, feeling the familiar coldness of the ring on my left hand as I wait for a certain plane to land, trying to think of the day when I first thought of all this, and thinking how lucky I am that I have come this far.
The plane arrives, and when the passengers from the plane start flocking through the airport, I smile. My lucky charm has arrived.