Overhaul

Summertime is usually a time for self-reinvention. Dorks buff up. Others get lazy and couch potato. People with nothing better to do with their lives discover a hidden passion. Theater people join workshops. Regular people join theater workshops and become theater people. Other regular people get summer jobs for extra dough on their hands. Bums go to the beach. Gym junkies show off their new bods. Old jocks get a run for their money. Some people find true love. Others start over (life has never been this real). People travel abroad. Some go on a cruise or a tour around Europe. Some soak up the sun and party like there’s no tomorrow. Others blog like there’s no tomorrow. Different strokes for different folks – summer can bring a lot of things to a lot of different people. For this friendly chap, summer combos with a major existential overhaul.

Last Tuesday, I started my on-the-job training with Senator Jinggoy Ejercito Estrada for my Ateneo Political Science curriculum. While my workload has yet to unravel itself as I write this column, preparing for a total of 200 work hours in a sort of corporate setting has become a whole different story. It has entailed a lot of physical, emotional, and mental preparation which are not normal to my usual carefree and easygoing ways. For this internship, I’ve had to psyche myself up for an avenue in which I would be forced to apply the theories and skills that I had learned in all my years of taking public ad, local governance, and public policy. Working for the Senator would be an opportunity of a lifetime — where both passion and determination would form essential components to my “working boy” survival 411.

After endless nagging and motivational talks from my brother Ipe Cruz and  my parents, I decided to embark on the necessary steps for looking successful in order to feel successful, and therefore, be successful. Image is apparently everything because even the people who only appear as though they’re successful seem to attract a certain amount of success that others just won’t come by. Item one was to shave off my mustache, then my beloved goatee, followed by a haircut, and finally, a trip to the shopping mall to redress my artsy-fartsy wardrobe with polo shirts, long sleeves, ties, and several pairs of formal pants. I’ve always been a weird sort of dresser — opting for printed vests, weird-looking spectacles, flashy shoes, and clothes that attract attention in a KSP (kulang sa pansin) sort of way. So toning down my wardrobe, at least for my time in the Senate, was surely no walk in the park.

While my room is also undergoing a month-long renovation care of my friend Dotty Gosingco, I’ve also had to sacrifice some late night gallivanting in the streets of Manila and slap the nocturnal buh-Jesus out of my system for a good night’s rest and some much-needed energy for the longs days ahead. Discipline and a self-imposed midnight curfew have become my modus operandi, in addition to waking up two hours before call time to do Hip Hop Abs. Apparently, buying spankin’ new corporate attire is only half the beta pie. Looking good in those clothes without love handles pouring out of you takes up the other stinking half. After all, an 8 to 7 job at the Senate is no joke.

As I have opted to forego the couch potato days of summer for some much needed higher learning, I find myself still in a bit of a quandary. It’s nothing serious but something potent enough to affect my hungry soul. In the real world, how much of yourself do you have to give up in order to play a part? Does going corporate really mean giving up a part of oneself to conform to established norms? All of a sudden, my Harry Potter spectacles, patterned bags, and printed shirts had no business staying in my daily affairs. Well, maybe after. But still, it would’ve been swell to bring a part of you wherever you go, especially when your sense of individuality comes side by side with a hint of a goatee, a Sesame Street vest, or some outlandish accessory in your overall attire. In the bigger picture, I also wonder if there’s any such room for me in the corporate world, another issue altogether. In the meantime, it’s the sweet life with Jinggoy for yours truly. Sayonara weird boy. It’s khakis, clean-shaven and neutral for you now. Well, keep the green, checkered socks at least.

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Catch your breath and let me know what you think at imcalledtoffee@mac.com