as with most nights at our house, i'm the last one to retire to bed. but lately, me and the folks have unwittingly constructed what i would call nightshifting. tatay packs in a few hours of sleep each night and easily wakes up to the unexplainable hour-long barks of china. nanay, on the other hand, is back with her interrupted nights and, in the process, is once again anxious about it, so much so that starting tomorrow, she is paying her acupuncturist a visit, the first one in years.

meeting points for our shifting include the kitchen (tatay's unspoken panic about not having enough bread - both white and whole wheat - to sustain midnight snacks comes here), the bathroom (i think i'm the only one who bothers to close the door when doing number one and two) and the living room (no additional comment here).

but really, the star, the prince of the living room, the center of attention at any time of the day, so long as he's inside the house, is lefty, the two-month-old puppy and the remnant of kaya's unbelievable seven puppies. everything about him is a source of wonder whether we're watching tv or having our meals, we steal constant glances at lefty. what's with the eye color (languid emerald gray), that frown that we call the quizzical look, the fleas and ticks finding their way towards his body (no thanks to kaya who still hates baths). we also wonder what he dreams about when he sleeps on his back, his legs all up in the air. does he see his brothers and sisters all in different homes now? do the ticks and fleas invade his dreams too? does he see a parade of food?

so far, he has one significant talent - he can let himself out the screen door. he can heave his entire weight against the door to open it wide enough for him to make a sneak out.

a few minutes ago, lefty started whining - time to be let out again.

and so, it is me once again, the only semi-wide-awake person left. in a couple of hours, i, too, will be treated to a festival of dreams, should i remain to have the deluge of dreams like those of the previous month. i'm not quite sure how i managed to have sleep lasting for twelve hours. i do wake up at the predictable hours, the seventh, the eighth, and yet i curl back to the conventional fetal position and i dream some more. each dream is not the continuation of the previous and worse, i don't remember all of them. is it really bad not to remember? right now, i can recall one of those dreams. i was at some sort of state ball and the guests were seated in chairs arranged beside each other, their backs against the wall like at your typical high school dance. i do believe i was donning a tiara and a ballgown and two chairs away from me was eula valdez and a zobel girl.

one dream i haven't had in a very long time is one where i wake up sobbing. i certainly don't remember what the dream was (upon waking up) but i can only imagine how powerful it must have been to make me cry like that.

these days, i don't cry as much as i did a few years ago. there was a time when i had my monthly bouts which started to worry anna. she started to fret because i was calling her more often, showing up at her house to hang out more than usual. back then, i was really, really sad and bothered. i cried almost everyday. i even cried because i was crying and i'm so tired from crying.

someone recently remarked to me, "mukhang maaliwalas ang mukha ninyo. hindi mukhang haggard." i immediately responded, "oo naman." later on, i tried to recall when he was my student and i remembered. oh, it was that year. i can only imagine how i looked like to my students, at least the more perceptive ones. i am amazed that it was a long time ago.

a friend is slightly worried how she looked like in front of her students, what with the situation she's in right now. i told her about the remark my former student made and reminded her how our faces are too transparent, we shouldn't even bother to put up a brave face.

those days seem like years ago but i'm sure that at the time, the emotions were too raw, the images too vivid they swallowed me alive. i thought i couldn't get past the day.

oh, ancient history. those days no longer have a place in my everyday.