The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

48 : Routine

June 2005

Kimberly

I stare back at the mirror inside the door of my closet. I put the maroon necktie under the collar of my white blouse. I adjust the length of the wider end as it falls on my front. I make two rotations over the other, scoop it from the back, and insert it into the triangle of the loop. I pull it down to adjust, with the arrowhead-like point just touching the fold of the blouse before the hem at the waist area. Then I straighten my knee-length pencil skirt that's also maroon. This is the uniform of the local state college.

I comb my hair, from the scalp to the ends that reach my collar bones. I part it on the side, aligned with the tip of my left eyebrow. Then I arrange my full bangs, so they cover my wide forehead.

I grab the compact of face powder from the foot of my bed and apply some on my face. I put a few dabs of balm on my lips next. Then I throw them inside my black canvas tote bag. I take out my perfume from the closet, spray it on both my sides and in front, and return it inside.

The sweet smell of strawberry and milk diffuses around the room as I approach my desk. I get my glasses and wear them. I unplug the charger, disconnect it from my cellphone, open the unread message, and send him a reply.

Benjie: good morning, KP

Me: good morning, Sunshine

I go back to the closet and take one handkerchief. Then I close it, throw the hanky in my bag, and check the rest of its contents. There's my medium-sized binder notebook with sheets of pad paper in the middle, a set of pens, face powder and lip balm, hand sanitizer, a pack of tissue, wallet, ID, umbrella, and an old Alice Hoffman novel in paperback. I add the cellphone with them.

I wear the shoes that Cherry bought for me. They're simple black leather, round on the front, and with broad heels two inches in height.

I straighten my blouse and check the time on the alarm clock on my desk. Eight-fifteen. Today is Wednesday, and my first class is at nine.

I lift the jacket that Benjie gave me last year from the chair, fold it, and put it inside the bag as well. I wear the straps on my right shoulder, and I go out of the room.  

My father is out on the veranda. He nods at me before I head down for the gate. The driver they hired last summer, and after his hospitalization, is cleaning the pick-up.

It's a cloudy morning, but it doesn't insinuate rain.

My routine is more or less the same. I get off in front of the Shopping Mall from here, and I ride a tricycle going to the state college. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, my classes start at nine and end at three. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, my days start at eight-thirty and end at four.

This is the third week of June and also with school. I'm still getting a bit used to the rhythm, but so far, nothing seems to be going bad.

Only a couple of handfuls of my batchmates from before also go to this school. And it's good news that none of them are those I had conflicts with. Aside from Liane, I have not had significant interactions with the rest of them for the most part of high school. But I did not escape their confused looks, and when they asked why I'm here and not in NSU. I just shrugged, forced a weak smile, and jokingly said that I'm wondering about the same thing too.

I present my ID to the guard as I enter the school compound. It's probably half the size of the old school where I went from kindergarten up to last March. This one is not as airy with the small buildings standing closer to each other, and a little dark with those tall, old, and huge trees all around. I suddenly miss the comfort of my old school.