As the sun glared at me, I ran to hide under a cashew tree. Every summer this tree would fill the whole backyard with its sickeningly sweet smell. Making me crave for the fruit and permanently staining my shirts.

Every time the sun would hide, I would go back and squat in front of a wooden beam. With a heavy hammer that’s too big for my tiny hands, I hammer in nails on the beam. Copying what my grandpa did.

He was always busy and even though he’s old, he always had something to do and every day without fail, this giant old man that towers over me, is always busy.

“Hey, ya brat! What’re ya doin’?!”

Seeing me play with his tools, his grumpy face got even grumpier. Grandpa was the same as any other Grandpa in this rural village. With no electricity and with nothing to do, people always look for ways to entertain themselves.

No wait, that’s wrong, they can’t help but find work to entertain themselves.

For example, my Grandpa is a farmer, but when he’s not busy planting the fields, watering it in the morning, or watching over it near harvest time, he would build stuff. He would build boats, make clay stoves and even right now, we’re building a home for my youngest uncle.

Grandpa, as the only son of a family with vast lands, made sure to cut the whole mountain in the exact number as his 8 sons and daughters.

He would always complain saying it’s his, but he made sure to mark the parts he would give to each of them.

Right now, since my youngest uncle helps him in the fields, with no plans from moving to the city, Grandpa offered to build a house for him before his marriage. That, after their honeymoon, they would stay and have their family live there.

So right now, I’m currently “helping” (bothering) my Grandpa.

“Brat! Don’t ya ruin the beam with all those nails!”

He snatched the hammer from me and removed all the half-driven nails with ease. The beam looked like a durian earlier and I was planning on using it as a log trap, but then, Grandpa would get mad for wasting material. Still, I worked hard on it.

What do I do now? Without TV I’m bored.

“Hey. Bring my toolbox. I’ll teach ya how ta hammer nails and build a house!”

With another grumpy glare, he pointed at the toolbox away from all the beams. I spent my whole summer following my Grandpa around the fields and building my uncle’s house.

-----------------------------------

The taxi suddenly stopped and shook me awake from my dream.

The taxi dropped me in front of my destination and I paid the exact amount for the fare.

What welcomed me outside the warm taxi, was the prickly winter wind blowing my hair all over the place. Then to escape the cold weather, I dragged my suitcase along and entered a 3-star hotel.

It’s rare for adults to remember their childhood, especially around the age of 5 or 6. But that dream was so vivid, that it felt like I was watching TV in first person. The contrast of that dream and the weather outside made me confused for a second.

Once I entered my room, I lay flat on the bed without removing my shoes.

I had a long flight, it was winter and I did nothing but sit, eat and sleep on the plane. So why am I so tired?

This is why I hate planes. I felt like I added another layer of fat in my hips from all that sitting and eating.

“Gaaaaahhhh… I still need to do my jooooooob… ugggh!”

My elongated words and moans didn’t help my situation at all as I complained about being overworked. I stood up, washed my face and changed my clothes. I wore a formal white blouse and navy slacks for work and a 2-inch black heels to match it.

I put on my make-up, took out a leather briefcase and my purse. Then, I wore my winter coat and asked the bellboy to hail a taxi.

My destination was a restaurant for a meeting.

The restaurant was one of the Michelin starred restaurants in New York. It incorporates French and Japanese cuisine, making the humble and kind Japanese cuisine feel like the indulgent French cuisine.

It wasn’t bad, honestly, it was good. It deserved its reputation but I was more of a purist. It’s either I eat pure Japanese cuisine or pure French cuisine, but as I ate more, the food is slowly changing my mind. I mean, cuisine fusion is an innovation to achieve excellence.

Aside from the food, the meeting was as usual. Selling my company’s products, negotiating and finally making a decision.

We drank, ate and talked as we entertained each other to build rapport. It was a boring process, but one that I’ve always done and one I excel at.

After the meeting and dinner, I was a little drunk so instead of heading straight to the hotel, I walked around the park near the restaurant. It was dangerous at night so I decided to walk to a place where I can hail a taxi. But then, I found myself walking in the dark with nothing but a single light shining in a distance.