I’ve been working non-stop for EPH since February of 2009, and it made me hog the computer for hours on end, sitting on my chair like I had quick-dry cement on my butt. The experience was pretty challenging since that was the time I started to have leg cramps. Too much sitting can do a number on your leg, so I tend to limp my way around the house and to my so-called office just to check if I have revisions waiting in my inbox.

Just recently, I found a link in one of my emails about an exercise called Hip Hop Abs. at first I said to myself, “I couldn’t even walk, much less lift a leg so why bother?” but then again, I asked around and thanks to my 545 friends on Facebook, I got a pretty good indication that the program really works. Full of anticipation and curiosity, I downloaded the copy and watched it.

Funny thing I did was browse through the first video entitled Hips, Buns and Thighs without a slight idea what I was going to see. So I sat down (as usual) and – don’t kill me for this – opened the bag of popcorn my dad gave me as a pasalubong. While munching on the cheese-flavored sweet popcorn, my eyes almost popped since oh gosh the routine was HARD!

Then I opened the whole folder and saw a schedule for a month’s worth of exercise and grinned since it was not that difficult to follow. Since I tend to share a lot, the program works like: Day 1 is all about the Fat Burning Cardio, which goes on for two straight days. Day 3 is the Abs Sculpt which may be a low-intensity workout but you will be perspiring buckets and wishing that the water dispenser was within arm’s length. Day 4 and Day 5 is the same as Day 1 and 2. Day 6 is Abs Sculpt again.

In between breaks, instead of smoking at least four sticks of cigarettes, I now do the Pacquiao stance and work on my oblique – that’s the muscle located at the sides of your stomach. Pretty healthy start for a not-so healthy writer I might say. So before ending this rather amusing request to be a guest blogger, find time to work on your body. Health is indeed very important to us writers. Exercising and being active even during a 12-hour speed set can work wonders for your mental alertness.

Thanks for reading and off I go to work on my biceps in one, two, three.

I certainly would like to have these moments with people I work with at Essays.PH. I know that we work online and we have a different kind of working environment but sometimes, there are things you can only implant if you’re face-to-face with a person.

There are a few VERY IMPORTANT things that we’d like to REMIND you about.

This is me imagining we’re all seated together eating dinner and here is my motherly talk with you, so listen up…

Incorrect Filenames

Most of the writers don’t bother to indicate the correct slot number in their filenames, e.g., Writer 1’s zipfile is writer5.topic.code.zip.

This is important because in bulk orders, the Purple Team needs to constantly double-check which writer took which slot. Instead of being able to unzip and organize articles in one pass, this takes up a LOT of time when it happens frequently. Even a single case that we miss will be time-consuming to rectify.

If you haven’t thought much about it yet, a writer who indicated the incorrect slot number could get penalties and revision requests intended for another writer. You see, using the correct filename format works both ways – no hassle for the editor and for the writer.

Assignment Threads are not chat rooms

It would be better if all threads only contained posts that have something to do with the actual operations (assignment claims, GC requests and status updates). This is primarily because some writers (especially those who don’t have a fast connection) don’t bother opening the threads and just look at the number of replies. If a 2-slot assignment has no attachment and three replies, the writer assumes that the thread is already full and moves on to other threads.

The Writer’s Cafeteria is there for chatting purposes. There are email inboxes that could also be used as a destination for any assignment-related inquiries or concerns.

Claim and not Ask

This is related to an assignment thread evolving into a chatroom. If you want to do a set in a particular thread, CLAIM IT. The standard post is, “I’ll be writer#_.”

Do not post, “Can I be Writer#2?” This confuses the next few writers who will pass through the thread. They’d think you’ve already covered that slot. This could delay the thread because no other writer will claim that slot and you are waiting for a confirmation that you can be that writer. This won’t happen because what you will get is a private message warning you about the post you made.

SOPs, Formats, MANUAL

We have always been reminding writers about READING THE MANUAL. EPH has SOPs and they should be followed.  Zipfiles, file formats – all of these are not arbitrary rules. These help streamline and organize the output, so that it can be easy to judge which article was specifically made for EPH and which one is a reference doc that the writer accidentally submitted.

Your filename format matters a lot. In the manual you’d read: “Make sure the filename of each Word File is the keyword of your article.”

Every single SOP has already been stated clearly in the EPH manual, which all applicants have read before they got in.

DOUBLE-CHECK that dang ZIP!

Before uploading your zipped articles YOU HAVE TO double-check the contents of the compressed file. We have encountered too many cases of people regularly submitting their reference docs or corrupted zipfiles. Editors would get alibis upon alibis that make individual cases appear like they were unintentional or plain accidents.

One or two incorrect uploads can be chalked up to honest mistakes, but several cases in succession even after being notified gives us this conclusion: writer is sloppy/disorganized or outright cheating.

That’s it for now.

So… how do you find my baked chicken with oregano? Is it good? Tomorrow we’ll have your favorite pasta and then we’ll talk about your lovelife. *insert smiley here*

Originally I planned on going somewhere nice – like Tagaytay. Two things stopped me though: (1) my budget, and (2) the fact that the car is holed up in a repair shop somewhere in Makati. So Joe, Ysa and I went to Megamall instead. I had not thought about where to have lunch, so for a while we wandered around the Atrium, looking at the menus of each resto, occasionally listening to piano renditions of 80s love songs and – gasp! – Careless Whisper.  Then I remembered how people raved about Chef’s Quarter, so despite limited resources we had our lunch there.

I don’t know if it’s because it’s my birthday or the fact that I’m easy to please – give me meat, pour a generous amount of sauce on it and I’m ok – but the whole experience there made my day.  So much so, that after “depositing” Ysa in a playhouse located at the basement, my coffee plans were scrapped. These were replaced by a trip to the toy store and Powerbooks, where Joe bought me the 3 books in the Eragon series.

We were home by seven in the evening, which is so unlike me because I’m like a kid in a candy shop when I go out of the house – I’ve got to try everything. But I was happy – happier than I was in birthdays past. This change made me ponder on things; and I realized, for the first time, that I am not that young anymore.

I turned 26 last Thursday.

A friend told me weeks back that once you reach this age, you should – if you still haven’t – set aside that angst that comes with being a young adult, because you’re going to face “real world” problems now. At first I didn’t think that piece of advice applied to me. I mean, I married early and had a kid at 21 – surely there are “real world” problems to be had given my situation. But looking back, I don’t think I was that mature in handling the issues that came my way. I always succumbed to feelings of envy and self-pity, and from time to time I went too far with my “what ifs” and “what could have beens”. Perhaps a little bit of angst was warranted at that time, but now? No more.

I have wasted enough time hatching plans and destroying dreams in one breath. At 26, it is time to hit the ground running because really, this is it.

*****

Now I know this is going to sound like an Oscar winner speech, so I am asking for your indulgence. Part of the happiness I felt last Thursday is due to everyone here at EPh, so I would like to thank you all: to my bosses – for the opportunity to become one of the editors here; to my co-editors – for the understanding and acceptance you have shown me despite my numerous shortcomings; and to the writers, especially those I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with (via PM, YM, threads) – for the laughs, your patience and understanding when I don’t respond ASAP to your messages, and well, for the love.

Looking forward to more birthdays with you guys!

*huuuugs!*

I. AM. A. GIRL.

I was born a female; my birth certificate says so too. Many have mistaken me for a guy – not that I’m offended – it is probably partly my fault as well. The avatars I’ve chosen and used for the past 2 years are not exactly flowing with feminine aura. It may be ironic that while I am a girl, I’m not inclined to girly things. I don’t like ribbons, butterflies, flowers and practically anything pink.

So to clear the air of this confusion, I’ve changed my profile pic. Not that I’m crazy about this idea because most of my acquaintances are petrified of my face – for reasons still unknown to me. However, no amount of confusion or bribery will make me change my avatar to Hello Kitty or something of the like.

—–

Many are confused why I have chosen to be yayaless for nearly two years. So let me tell you about Michelle.

Michelle was my eldest son’s first official nanny. I was skeptical to look for one because we had all sorts of nasty experiences with house help – getting robbed being the most constant. She was referred by the family driver and assured us that he will vouch for his granddaughter. So we accepted.

She was barely 18 when she came to our home. We knew that adjustments had to be made and strict instructions for childcare had to be imposed. She’s a fast learner and I gave her less credit than what she was worth during the time. A few weeks of observation led us to the comforting conclusion that we can have peace of mind while our then only son was with her.

Her schedule was flexible. She had her own room and she was entitled to whatever it was inside the refrigerator she fancied. She had TV, DVD, radio and phone privileges. She received gifts and bonuses during special days and holidays where she could also take vacations that can last for a month. Every week, she was entitled to two days off. When my husband and I are home, she was free to do whatever it was she wanted.

Our son Angelo never had a single bruise. He was always clean and fresh even during physical activities. I never had any complaints with Michelle… well, maybe one.

Immediately after she receives her salary during payday, she would ask permission to go out – which we would happily grant until she comes home. She practically spends half (occasionally more) of her own money to buy toys, treats and other goodies for our son. That was a major no-no. She’d receive her share of reprimands while my eyes are blaring. She’d accept every word with an innocent smile saying it was a gift. Even after she was given extra cash to buy our son’s wants/needs, she would still spend from her own pocket.

She stayed with us for 4 years, until she confessed that she met someone and would want to start a family of her own. As much as it broke our hearts, we gave her our blessing.

We went through one nanny after the other. None of them compared to Michelle. She set the standard really high. Some were workable but we encountered the evil ones as well. I nearly mangled one of them when I caught her hurting my son in the bathroom. One day, something really, really bad happened and that was where I drew the line. No more. If I can’t find another Michelle, no one will touch my kids ever again.

Saying goodbye to Michelle was sad. She left our home in tears, half-hearted to go especially after my son sang her a song before hugging her goodbye. Every time we would hear “Always Remember You” by Michele Luppi, she becomes an automatic thought.

—–

Speaking of standards, I only have one request to our dear EPH writers. Please do mind your format. Follow the AD to the dot. The guidelines are all in the manual, all you need to do is read and remember.

If you want an expensive toy, he would say, you have to be hardworking or smart enough to come up with money for it on your own.

So I robbed a bank.

Wait, no. What I actually did was save a couple of week’s worth of my lunch money. It wasn’t long before I was able to pony up the 300 pesos needed to buy my own Batman figure.

Convincing one of my relatives to accompany me to the toy store was simple. The hard part was choosing which actual Batman figure to buy. If it were up to me, I would have bought them all but 300 pesos would only net me one figure, considering that the toys were priced around 200-300 pesos.

I’ve already had my eye on a couple of figures, which I saw from my friends: Turbojet Batman and Infrared Batman. The two figures were appealing to me because they both came with backpack accessories and can shoot projectiles (jetpacks and launching projectiles being two of the many things that are inherently appealing to men, regardless of age.)

In the end, I chose a different figure:

The Bruce Wayne action figure, with removable bat armor, cape, and cowl.

My friends thought the figure was boring. Their Batmen had the ability to shoot rockets, launch bat discs, and ride a glider. I believe one of them even had a Batman that can throw grappling hooks and parachute.

“What does it do?” they would ask, and I would show that my Batman has the awesome ability to turn into a civilian.

They found it lame, of course. To them, Batman was all about fighting crime as THE Batman. If a Batman toy had any special ability, it should be something that is flashy and useful in combat. A Bruce Wayne toy that had the ability to turn into Batman is silly, because the other toys were already Bruce Wayne dressed as Batman by default.

I didn’t mind the ridicule that my toy got, I loved it and played the H-word out of it. It was exactly what I wanted; my Batman toy had something that all the other flashy Batman figures didn’t have: a choice.

Because Turbojet Batman, Infrared Batman, Batglider Batman, and even Batcycle goddamn Batman with his stupid Bat-themed motorcycle – they’re going to be Batman all the time. That’s all they’re meant to do – fight crime dressed like a giant flying mammal. My Batman toy, on the other hand, has the ability to take a break and unwind. He can stop being Batman for a while, shove the Bat costume inside the packaging and just parade around as Bruce Wayne, going “I’ll fight you tomorrow, crime. It’s my day off.”

On days like this, nothing beats good old comfort food. And on this cloudy afternoon, there’s nothing I want more than my Lola’s arroz caldo, which we all fondly call “Lugaw Magnolia”.

“Lugaw Magnolia” is a labor of love. It all starts with the rice. Cupfuls of pearly white “malagkit” rice are soaked in water overnight and will stand witness as Lola wakes up at 4:30 am to go to the market to purchase the rest of the ingredients:  handpicked, fresh pieces of plump chicken meat; ginger, white onions, garlic and saffron; spring onion and calamansi. These are simple, rather uninspiring ingredients that at first glance do not betray the promise of a wonderfully aromatic dish. But in the hands of my Lola, simple becomes wonderful; she cooks the dish perfectly.

After preparing all the ingredients, minced garlic is sautéed in a pan with oil until golden brown, and then set aside. In a large cast iron pot, Lola then sautés the chopped white onions and the slivers of ginger until the former become translucent and sweet, and the scent of the latter fills the air. The meat is thrown in, then, and half-cooked. Fish sauce is added, too, and the whole concoction is left to simmer for a few minutes, just until the fishy smell is eliminated. The “malagkit” is then mixed in, along with just the right amount of rice wash or water and pinches of saffron; and this is where the magic happens.

In most arroz caldo recipes I’ve encountered, at this point the whole thing is left to simmer for 2-3 hours, or until the desired texture of rice is achieved. For Lola, though, it is a crime to do such a thing. “Stirring makes all the difference,” she told me that night she made me privy to her secret. Constantly stirring the pot may be exhausting, but it renders her arroz caldo thick, almost creamy – and that’s what sets it apart from all other arroz caldos I’ve tasted.

When I was a kid I preferred Lola’s “Lugaw Magnolia” without the usual accompaniments – i.e., thinly sliced spring onion, fried garlic bits, ground black pepper, a dash of fish sauce, and freshly-squeezed calamansi. As I grew older, though, I discovered that adding them (save for spring onion – I still don’t like how it overpowers the flavor of the dish) creates another layer of flavor that perfectly complements the arroz caldo. But don’t get me wrong here – I can still finish off a huge bowl of “Lugaw Magnolia” sans the condiments.

Lola still cooks her famous “Lugaw Magnolia”, but not as often as before. It amazes me, though, that even after all these years – despite all the other exemplary dishes I’ve had, and despite the fact that I get to taste her dish only once or twice a year – whenever it’s raining or 4 in the afternoon looks and feels like evening, I crave for only one thing: Lola’s “Lugaw Magnolia”.

***

On an EPh-related note, these days do not forget to give in to your craving for comfort food every so often. Comfort food is food for the weary mind and the soul that feeds off of gloomy days. It can save you from the melancholy that comes with weather like this, and hopefully, from using up your GCs.

What’s your comfort food?

I welcome myself back to this reality.

One lazy Thursday after the loooooong break from editorial work, I had this YM chat with boss Neil. No, we don’t usually talk about work (apart from exchanging mod stories and café updates). This particular session touched on the “sabaw, duga, and epal” topic segue-ing to scary, but really, really good and respectable boss-editor-mentors we’ve had in previous jobs to our inevitable retirement (the jump from one topic to the next was not really huge if you would read the entire saved chat.txt).

I shared my thoughts (worries) about what my hubby and I could do to still earn on top of pension when the time comes that the kids have moved out and pursued their own dreams. We also exchanged a lot of the LOL and ROFL emoticons and one OMG with the sad news that one of the writers has already left us for good (RIP).

Long after the end of the chat, I’ve dwelt on the silent counter in my head. Two more decades plus 3 years and I will be flashing my senior citizen card! I lingered on that thought bubble for a few minutes until I realized that I still have a Papyrus post to submit. (Yes, some things never change. I refuse to list this down as a 2011 resolution because I will just ignore it in the long run anyway… I will still be cramming for a topic and I am consistent about that, so that explains it.)

On another window, I have this old, old friend of mine. I mentioned about the 14 sets of assignment threads I need to review, the invite layout for a May wedding, and the blank Thursday Papy page. He generously typed a couple of ideas, one of which should be talking about primes (prime numbers, prime year, prime of life).

The suggestion is quite timely and really interesting to develop.

Since I have emo’ed my way to thinking about the senior years or the prime of life for some – the idea fits like a glove.

***

I asked myself – have I reached the prime of my life? That point where I can say I have matured and bloomed. That point when power and vigor are at their peak. That point when I have totally been in top shape mentally, physically, aesthetically, and all-the-ally. I’d say I have. I’d also say I still am in that stage and I think I’d have a different version of this “prime” in my 50s (and I am sooo looking forward to those leisure years).

***

A few tapping of my keyboard led me to the definitions of prime:

• as an adjective – first in terms of quality, value, rank, sequence, grade
• as a noun – dawn (or the earliest hours of the day), that age of perfection in terms of physical and mental health, peak
• as a transitive verb – to prepare

Now that I am thinking more about it, it would be great if everyone’s primed for excellence this year. No, I am not asking you to change your (my) mind about not having a NY Resolution. No. This isn’t “new” at all, for crying out loud! Where the homebased writers of EPH are concerned – it’s about time you show us that there’s a bite to your loud barking. That when you call yourself a “writer,” it means you make sense when you sew words in place and your grammar is decent. That when you blabber in the caf and in your profile about things you know and are capable of, it means you’re really to watch out for (and not the mere annoyance that we all despise). Step up and up. Reach for that prime spot at work where you no longer receive rejection emails, revision requests, or increasing negative reps on your posts. Reach for that prime spot where the GCs are really used when it’s necessary and where deadlines and company policies are cast in stone.

***

On a different note, but still about primes – I’ve learned from this same friend of mine that 2011 is interesting because it is a prime year. Googling led me to amusing and amazing facts about this rabbit year: that it is a prime number resulting from the addition of 11 consecutive prime numbers! The numbers are 157, 163, 167, 173, 179, 181, 191, 193, 197, 199, and 211.

The semi-geek that I am who’s instantly grown fascinated with this pattern listed down the next prime years that I may still be witnessing if I lived past 80: 2017 2027 2029 2039 2053 2063 (7, if I include 2011). It’s also fun (and absolutely revealing) to point out that I went through seven (7 = prime, too!) prime years already – 1973 1979 1987 1993 1997 1999, 2003.

Wow, huh!?

Ok, you’ve had enough randomness today. See you next week, then. *batting eyelashes*

Normally, I would ignore this idea. It is not because I don’t believe that there are changes that must be done; rather, it is because I believe that change should come naturally – and when it does, there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s put it this way, I get uberly irritated when I plan something and it does not fall in to place. This is why I chose – for the longest time – to simply go with the flow.

This year-ender is different (for once). I dared to look back on the year that was, and realized a few things I often ignore. I fell ill several times and it prevented me to function as I should. If there was one thing that I realized more than the value of health, it was the value of living life.

Like the listomaniac that I am, I jotted down a few “highlights” of what made it a great year.

1. One rainy day, my kids asked me to make paper boats. I obliged (though was slightly dismayed because I was having a bad day). One of the boats got caught under the veranda and would not push forward with the stream. So, I ran out in the rain to retrieve it. The 2 minutes of soaking under the rain – for some reason felt good. I forgot why I was feeling low and started to play with the kids – in the rain – as if I were a child once more.
2. My good friend, Adrian, thought that I was taking this “domestication” thing too seriously, that I was boxing myself out from the world. Because he’s leaving soon, I accepted every invitation he extended. He became my “fairy godmother” and took me to a gay bar (really don’t know if there’s a PC word for it) a few weeks back because he knew I’d laugh my heart out during the event – which I did. Before Christmas, he practically dragged me out of the house just to experience Divisoria. Both places were a first for me. Call it weird, but it was my dream.
3. My husband and I are not the conventional “cheesy” couple. One day, to my surprise, he sat next to me and asked me if I wanted to go out with my friends… alone. I enjoy his company and he would not let me out of his sight – not for the last ten years. He saw how quizzical my face was, and he just said he did not want me to feel like Persephone. Basically, he just wanted me to have fun. It took me a while to realize why he wanted me to.

To my surprise (yes, lots of surprises this year), they were all on to something. None of them wanted to confront me with the hard fact that I was not giving myself time. Perhaps, they all wanted to stay away from the sky-high eyebrow raising. It was then that I realized that I was too focused on keeping the house and the family in shipshape that I often neglected myself. Even when I fall ill, I keep on going – only to make recovery longer and relapses more frequent. I’m stubborn, okay?! There, I said it.

This coming year, as selfish as it may sound, it will be all about me. I promise to give myself more time – especially for resting. Recreation is something I can do for a few minutes each day. I can read a book while having coffee, or watch a movie at home. Apparently, when I’m feeling great, everything falls in to place. It is not enough that I give all my attention to those I love. After nearly three decades, it is only now that I realized that I should learn to love myself more. Because when I do, everyone is happier. Nothing will change in terms of priorities (and my OC schedule) it will only be one entry longer – with me added.

If I have one rant to my loved ones this year, it would be “why the (insert curse word here) did you wait ‘till December before you woke me up?! Even the song only said when September ends.”

Hokay, this blogpost has gotten longer than expected. A Happy New Year to you and all that/who you love. May you see and live life to the best that you can. Have a blessed one. Cheers!

Besides, I’m really here to impart some last reminders before I leave my post as editor. (My previous blog entry offers a clue as to why I have to go, just in case you’re wondering.)

This list involves mistakes even Blue Team members make and things most of the other editors have already discussed in past blog entries, so I hope that you really take note of the following this time:

1. Write your articles using font Times New Roman, size 12.

2. Don’t highlight/boldface anything else other than the keyword.

3. The keyword is the filename.

4. When the set you’re working on requires you to use the same keyword for all articles, name your files this way to avoid confusion: 1 keyword, 2 keyword, 3 keyword, and so on.

5. There are a lot of new writers, but even those who have been working for a month now still don’t get this right: in naming a zip file, the filename is Writer/Slot#.Username.Topic.AssignmentCode.

6. Submit your output on time. Editors are lenient in general, but the management sees this and they’re not happy with the results: delayed processes everywhere. There’s delay in the delivery of assignments to clients, and there’s delay in the crediting of writers’ work. Plus, you lose precious GCs when you’re late all the time, preventing you from having one to rely on in case an actual emergency arises.

7. Be courteous. Courtesy pays, believe me. Your editors are always assessing your performance, including the way you behave in this little online community. (Editors are only too happy to clarify things and help out, so there’s no need to be rude.)

8. Embrace growth. There’s always room for improvement. Welcome your editors’ feedback. Revision requests are love letters in disguise; they only show that your editors care enough to push you to become a better writer. On the side, check out online references to brush up on your grammar, and read every chance you get.

9. Take a breather every now and then. You don’t always have to claim a slot and say yes to every FA. Don’t get an assignment when you’re sick, on leave/vacation, or simply not in the mood.

1o. Write because you want to. It seems that the most successful writers here are those who are in it for love.

I’m typing in a hurry to avoid waking up the baby. I hope the reminders make sense and you somehow get the drift.

Anyway, I’ve already conveyed my thanks to the bosses, so now I’m saying a big THANK YOU! to all the co-editors and the writers. It’s been a privilege working with you and serving you, respectively. I’m hoping my personal circumstances improve soon so I could continue being a part of EPH. In case it takes longer, well, I just hope to see you all later.

PS. Merry Christmas!

About a thousand thoughts or so run through my mind each day. It’s not easy to just grab hold of one and make it stay – especially if it makes you feel good. And because you’re reading this, I am now dragging you to take a peek inside my bustling mind… (run while you can!)

Looking back, I realized that a lot of things happened over my nearly two years of working for EPH. I went through all the colors – from black to gray to red to green to blue to purple. This site was never a dull moment for me. I was not as active during the first year – sure, I claimed assignments on a regular basis, but I rarely participated in any other sections like the caf or the staff corner. Later on, I realized that writers needed some help, and the staff were understandably swamped. Back then, we only had 3 editors and I could only imagine the stress.

Segue…

After a year of being “yayaless” by choice, somehow, I managed to keep the house running “smoothly”. My eldest son goes to school each day, meals were prepared, the youngest bathed and countless times have I sung nursery rhymes. Yadda, yadda, yadda… mommy stuff. Fortunately, my husband’s supportive enough that during his days off, he’d help “lighten” my load.

My youngest son is 2 years old and he is potty trained. After a week of realizing that we no longer need to buy diapers, I felt my wallet exclaim “Halleluiah!” The eldest on the other hand, is 7 years old and can do his homework without assistance. He lives by two daily mantras: 1, always read the instructions before you do anything. And 2, if something must be said/asked and other people are around, ask to be excused and say it in private – no exceptions. Some say that I train my kids to be independent too early, some say it’s a good thing. For me, I believe, the sooner they learn, the better they’ll be. They will make mistakes at some point, hopefully not the same mistake twice.

If you’re a WAHM like me, you would know that no matter how happy and content you are with your life, there will still be times when you feel “dull”. Domestication can do that to you sometimes… or maybe it’s just me. Anyway, this is where EPH comes in. I do have the tendency to go nuts when I’m idle. Working here spares me from insanity. It makes me feel… productive – like I have a purpose other than keeping my promise to stay at home.

Correlation…

In the past few months, I saw new writers coming in every day. Some got confused while others were able to wing their way around. I can no longer count the times I’ve answered questions (some were of the same nature, and I wished I saved them so I could just hit CTRL+C and CTRL+V). After a few months, I saw the same writers I helped, helping newcomers. That brought a smile on my face.

It’s perfectly fine to ask questions – especially if you really don’t have a clue on what to do. Better safe than sorry, right? BUT! There is also nothing wrong with doing a little reading… perhaps a similar question was already answered, or perhaps it was right there in the Manual all along.

Correct me if I’m wrong, there is a fine line between supporting and spoon-feeding. At some point, you have to spread your own wings and fly. You see the relation? Kinda reminds me of the saying “give a man a fish and he will eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime.” Let’s pay it forward…unless you never run out of fish.

If you’ve made it this far without a spinning head, congratulations! Welcome to my haywired mind… hope you come back soon.