July 23, 1999:
9:45 pm Friday night

ACHES AND ARCHES

See, there’s nothing wrong with your shoes.

> But they’re always wet!

That’s because you sweat like a horse. Your armpits and your feet both. And the aircon in your office isn’t helping either.

> But it’s cool. Why would my feet sweat in a cool place?

There are such things as condensation, moisture in the air aiding and abetting the moisture in your sweat. End result: perenially wet socks. And aching foot muscles. Your feet are fatigued, my friend.

> Hmmm… maybe that explains some of my grumpiness. You know, physical discomfort aggravating my psychological unrest.

Wait. What’s wrong in your psyche, anyhow?

> Uh. Nothing. The usual. The blues. You know. Whatever.

Don’t give me that crap. Your feet are constantly sweaty and aching, your face is gaunt, you’re losing weight. Looks more than a “nothing, whatever” to me.

> (silence)

You need another beer.

> Forget beer. Get me a Jack Daniels on the rocks. Double.

Waiter! May Jack Daniel’s ba kayo? Isa ngang double, on the rocks.

> Ok. It’s the rain.

(silence. Listening intently.)

> I have to walk thru flooded gutters sometimes. And my shoes are old. They’re moldy. My feet get wet. I get to the office and change to sandals even if sandals aren’t allowed. No one sees my feet anyway, usually. So… I leafve my shoes and socks to dry in one hidden corner underneath my desk. But at the end of the day, my shoes are still wet. In fact, I left them once overnight, hoping there’d be enough time for them to dry off. But the air in my office is probably to moisture laden for any drying off to happen. It sometimes seems my shoes weep. Does that sound crazy?

(drinking a large gulp of beer) Hm?

> Aw, forget I asked. Anyway. My shoes, they stay wet.

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