Written on the way to work on the Q88
I wanted to pray but my head is still throbbing, although the 2 tablets of Ibuprofen (Motrin) seems to be dulling the pain some. (Finally!) It’s cloudy and muggy — the sky is threatening rain so I’m wearing my pretty-in-pink light coat. (I was going to write “rain” coat but in Manila, this would conjure images of plastic coats which we don’t really wear in New York except when you go out in the pouring rain.)
My cold is getting better because despite the congestion, I’m able to expel it. The lady in front of me, though, seems to be bothered hearing me blow my nose so I’m trying to “hold it”. I should’ve know. Americans are very squeamish about germs. They won’t shake your hand if they or you have a cold. They would politely excuse themselves from being part of a conversation because they might pass it on to you. And try sneezing or coughing without covering your mouth (which, even in Manila, is considered impolite) and you will get some angry stares.
So unlike in Manila where a cold is but a common occurence, and even if you come to work with a temperature, everyone else goes about their business without a care. (I was sniffing ever so quietly and the lady in front looks behind her peripherally and now I fell like wanting to strangle her because I can’t believe even my sniffing is getting her goat — considering I’m sniffing because I can’t blow my nose because she’s being snotty!)
Rules in public.. so different here and back home. But of course — people have different ways of going about their day. Have you ever thought about how different cultures can view something as elementary as blowing one’s nose? I know, it’s probably the head cold — it’s got my mind all messed up. Wednesday.. another day closer to the weekend, and maybe time to start a new novena.