The Little Things

It has been a very long time since I last worked regularly in an office. Even in my last job where we had a workplace, we weren't really required to be there every day. In fact, there came a point where I was required to be there only once a week. This all made me very comfortable working remotely, whether from home or at a café or in a gazebo at the Ateneo, overlooking the headstones.

Since I started with my current job, there had just been these little things that are easily taken for granted but make their absence felt when you go without them for a few days. Chief of them, our trusty office guitar.

It's not an especially nice guitar. It's very light and doesn't resonate very well. Its fretboard is quite slim and it's hard to make a chord if you had fat fingers. It's twangy. But it has its virtues. For some reason, it never goes out of tune. It never breaks a string. It doesn't buzz no matter how hard I play it. And for such a cheap guitar, its intonation is spot on, at least up to the 14th fret.

It has a sweetspot. If you strike or strum the strings at some angle, it gives an interesting ring to your ear. And some times, if you're lucky, you get a coworker to jam with while everyone else is in line to get their dinner. Or, if you're very lucky, you might get an audience— even if it is an imaginary one.

There are other things that you just can't bring out with you and maybe I'll talk about them some other time. Other things like the little animal that runs across the corridors when you least expect it. Makes your heart jump somewhat. In a good way. I think.

It's that season when many people reflect on the closing year. Many will be grateful. Many will have a lot of regrets. Many will make resolutions. Not me. I may not be absolutely happy where I'm sitting right now. I may be feeling strange and may continue to feel strange.

But strange is good.

Strange is good.