Closing Time
by Renee Maxine Salcedo
“Closing time
Open all the doors
And let you out into the world”
I woke up by the sound of one of my favorite 90s hit. That song reminded me of the best times: Seneca, philosophy class, college, and I, a reckless youth. It usually opens my day when the rest of the world is deep asleep while I wander our village’s dark street on my way to become a productive citizen. It was unusual though because this time, when I rose from my deep slumber, the sun hit my face, the people around me were awake, and I heard the sound of the morning news for the first time in months.
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“6:00 AM,” the ticking clock said.
My heart almost skipped a beat until I remembered that I won’t be going anywhere. It was the first day of our work from home arrangement. I was relieved knowing that I won’t be rushing myself to bathe, commute, and be agonized for another late remark in my attendance.
The sight of the newly assembled desktop computer was new to me. We never owned such device, so somehow, it was like a dream come true for my 12-year old self. I turned it on, opened the tools, and finally started to do my typical work routine.
Nothing’s drastically changed. Well, I missed the comfort of the correctly adjusted swivel chair. I missed the smell of the office’s free coffee even though I do not even indulge myself in it. I missed the lovely greetings of the security guards that served as my assurance that everything will be okay. However, those sentimental images were just secondary to what I have now. I let them slip my mind because what’s important is that I have my work and income. I thought to myself that in this very unfortunate times, I am one of the lucky ones.
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I stared at the computer for what felt like days until I saw “2:00 PM,” the time that flashed in my screen.
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Back in the office, end of shift means chaos, but the fun type. We were like little kids racing to be first in line to go home. Now, we get to do it on our own pace with the view of our bed just a few meters away. But there were no laughters, goodbyes, and see you tomorrows.
“I know who I want to take me home …
I know who I want to take me home …”
I played the classic Semisonic song again while reflecting on the first day of “who-knows-how-long” work from home arrangement. I realized that I got overwhelmed by the lights that accompany my work that I forgot that darkness is currently unfolding for many. I checked the news and saw statistics that either count the laborers who got laid off from work, healthworkers who endured hours of shift in the hospital, or people who succumbed from the virus.
I
tried to blame myself for not doing enough, but I remembered one of the core values of my organization: “Valuing What Matters.” In my youth, I believed that being valued is something you feel from a significant other: the butterflies in the stomach, the first kiss, the happily ever after. Hours ago, I experienced it from the most unlikely of all situations: by having a stable job. Now, in the grand scheme of things, “valuing what matters” is also valuing the life of others. And what I’m doing, by being grateful to have stayed at home, is already a manifestation of it.
“Closing time
Every new beginning comes from
Some other beginning’s end”
I woke up to the same song again, plus the smell of home-cooked breakfast I never enjoyed for so long until this work from home set-up started. There’s still a few minutes to spare before the start of my shift. I grabbed my blanket and wrapped myself like a cocoon. I stared at the calendar hanging on my door.
“Day 2.” I said whisperingly, this time with a more hopeful and thankful tone.