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My days seemed to take a leisurely walk until I realized it was sprinting its way to the future and months passed by. When was the last time I was here? My mind is a muddle of mess and it refuses to remember. This site should be my home for the recollections of my thoughts, ideas, and special moments. But a lot has transpired lately that prevented me from taking refuge here. It is a shame but it is how my life went at the time.

Here I am again, taking another plunge into writing. I said it many times like a broken record. I made my promise. Broke it. Picked up the shards. Formed them into a new declaration. You know the drill. That is how my vicious cycle goes. But I am more hopeful now that I would hold on to my oath longer than before.

Like any other fresh slate, let me tell you a snippet of who I am. I was gone for a long time and it is highly probable that cobwebs had formed in your head about me. Time passed. Circumstances change. People never remain the same. I don’t recognize myself too. Why don’t we refresh you (me as well) on who I am?

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Hi, I am Sherlene. I am a full-time loan processor in a government-owned financial institution. I spend the majority of my day releasing loans and getting drowned in a sea of paper (and tears). With my entrepreneurial knowledge in school and my financial experience, I wish to elevate the status of small businesses in the country while I make my way up the corporate ladder.

Sounds like your typical elevator pitch, isn’t it? Name, professional title, job description, and career ambitions. Our lives mainly revolved around our day jobs. During the pandemic, the scene worsened. Many are losing their jobs and we should consider ourselves lucky to keep ours. We worked more hours and take in more load. With that, we defined the entirety of who we are with what we do as a living. How about we shake things up a little, remove that corporate mask, and relax. Ready?

Let’s do this one more time.

Hi, I am Sherlene. When I am not in the bank, I am a woman looking for mischief to spice things up in the house. I tease my sisters to death. I make fun of my mom, much to her chagrin. My jokes are corny and I laugh at them too hard. I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad suspected that his youngest child is a boy in a girl’s body. I also squeeze in writing short stories and making scrapbooks in whatever little time I have. Our house is filled with notebooks of all these creative projects. For me, making and recording history is an essential part of daily life, like eating and sleeping.

For many years, I dreamed of owning a self-hosted website. But I would find every reason not to start anything. I don’t have the money. I don’t have the time. I don’t know the technical how-to’s. I work 12 hours every day. I have to sleep. My co-workers need me. My family needs me too. As I mentioned, my list of reasons is long, whiny, and tiresome.

Just when I thought I abandoned the thought of doing it, I find myself picking up my pace again – learning how to set up a website and spilling my thoughts and ideas into my pages. How would I know if success is within reach if I wouldn’t get my hands on it? It is as challenging as before. The pandemic is looming over our heads. I drown at work to the point of burnout. The future is bleak and uncertain. But I would go on to keep in touch with who I am outside the premises of my day job. I am still a child. Young. Idealistic. Ambitious. Nothing could deter me now to pursue another life. Nothing could. Nothing should.

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