What has become of her? she wonders. What has become of the young girl so bent on making her path in the world on her own. What became of her?

What has become of her? she wonders. What has become of the person who fiercely loves those near and dear to her. What became of her?

What has become of her? she wonders. The free spirit that used to roam and flow with creativity, who wanted to tell stories of the world. What became of her?

What has become of me? The face in the mirror I no longer recognize. My sleepless nights haunted by past mistakes now faced. When did I take this turn into destroying my soul. Where was that line that I crossed... where once I would never wish for anything bad to happen to someone close to me, now is the reason for me to seek solace from the world.

I dont know what happened. Did greed and ambition take the best of me. Did I become one of those people who would bulldoze my way to the front, not caring if I am using other people as my footstool. Did I become one of those rich snobs that scoff at everything else, expectation levels high above anything else.

I hope that mirror's cracked. That that reflection isnt mine.

Long gone are days when my conscience was kept locked away. It is finally free now, and I am riding waves and waves and waves of my past behavior. I am worried now, of karma coming back for me. Remembering now, that not everyone deserves happiness, and truly not one such as I.

I am reminding myself now, that there are wishes I simply should not make. That that Higher Power up there, could be trying to teach me a lesson. Every corner I turn, I wait.

That reflection in that mirror. Its not pretty. Im not pretty.

What happened to that straight lace honorable loyal arrow I used to be.

Its 2.30 a.m.

We are in the office making sure our presentations have the same 'analysis' vs. 'Analysis' (on font size 6 mind you).

Our giant master model had to be revised... twice! because there was one mis-link that threw the whole market model off. And this after one week of trying to triangulate and make sense of all the data. When I say one week, I mean almost two, working until at least midnight to one every day.

On Sunday our boss requests us to go into the office from 12.30 p.m. We end up staying there till 1.30 a.m.

While I write this, its now 3 a.m. and we are still here. Cleaning up some smaller things, nitty gritty things, things that at 3 in the morning, I really couldnt care less about.

At 3 a.m. my boss asks for 2 more analysis cuts. Imagine how long it takes for us to do under normal circumstances. Now we've been looking without enough sleep for weeks, stressed and still! you want add new things. Killing the team.

My two colleagues on the case have it worst. While most of my work was frontloaded. (sleeping at 5 a.m.) their work has been bad all the way through. Theyve had to work at about 100 hours a week including the Sunday weekend we spent together and us putting in all the work this week.

Its quite bad. I worry about my colleague driving home in these conditions. I worry about us being completely useless on days on end because of this. This isnt even a fucking due diligence for god's sake. Why the hell am I working DD hours.

urgh... these are reminders as to why I should quit my job.

I miss my bed...

I was cleaning up the condo today. Trying to get rid of more things, to make space for more things. I had done a major spring cleaning about a month plus ago, and gave all my unwanted clothes to my sis. I told her to give it to her friends, or sell it at about two dollars each. Instead, she brought it to her market bazaars, her flea markets, and sold my clothes and her clothes for a grand total of about 150 dollars one weekend, almost 200 the second weekend. (I shouldve arranged for a commission instead of a cup of coffee).

So I cleaned more, tried to minimize my clutter to the only few items that matters to me. Made more space for The Boyfriend. For him to leave his things here if he wanted to. In a more accessible location.

Thats when I found it, a card he had given to me last year. I remember him telling me he had a surprise, and that he wouldnt give it to me until the next morning. He had just returned from Cambodia and he refused to give me my surprise all night.

I opened the card... an alarm clock on the front

' Alarm clock... bad'

and inside

' waking up next to you : just right'

I love this card. Brought me smiles. Reminded me back of the time when we were in love with each other. Back when things were straightforward... when things were clear.

The water is clearing again, between us... slowly

That card....
I love that card for everything it reminds me off... for his signature at the bottom. Those words he said to me, and then took back... the word I dont expect to hear from him anymore...

Back when he would sign it

" Love, ...The Boyfriend"

He comes home this weekend. Home to me, home to me cooking dinner for us for the very first time in this whole time that we have been together. Maybe that is how it is with us, it takes longer than normal for us to move forward. With us dancing left right, behind and front. But slowly, baby steps, we are moving forward.

We talk. I know he is tired, sense his tiredness. But he ceases to snap at me. Instead, he tries to talk to me, instead he listens to me. Instead he laughs with me, and makes jokes with me. He is trying and beyond everything else. I know he is trying and it makes me incredibly happy.

We talk, late into the night. Revisit each others philosophies of life. Of how it would be like to grow older with each other. The first weekend we were together it was a semi joke, something we could laugh at. When we spoke about the white picket fence, about having children, about growing old. About having our own little cooking space and our own cooking utensils. That one evening was a laugh for us. A test, but more than that, a laugh. But now... now those conversations have meanings. They start to hold bigger promises. We choose our words wisely now, look inside ourselves, question ourselves for a little bit, to understand how would we act in the future. It carries something serious now. We talk, and listen, and we will decide if the future together if what we can do. If we have the same thoughts, the same ideas on how the future might be, how we might raise our children if we decided to have any

I used to think that The Boyfriend brought out the best in me. In his company, I have always wanted to be a better woman. I have always wanted to bury my past and start over. I used to think that I was the lucky one this whole time. That I offered him nothing, but he offered me everything

I realize now, how complementary it is. Now, I feel that I bring out the better man in him. The man that wants to try, to talk, to make an effort. A man that is checking his temper more. Realizes more, how easy voice and language and diction can hurt someone. The man that I first fell for, the sweet, gentle man with the big heart

Because at the end of the day, it was his heart that I fell for. And we've gone through the ups and downs, the anger and the crying. But Ive always known that inside he is a good man. And I am hoping that I am helping him bring it out and shine it up a bit more just as he has brought out the best in me...

March 21: En Route to Camp David
The First Lady traveled with her husband to the Presidential retreat wearing a rust colored trench coat over cropped cigarette pants and classic flats.

Mrs. Obama joked to the New York Times about the President's close watch of her wardrobe: “He’s always asking: ‘Is that new? I haven’t seen that before.’ It’s like, Why don’t you mind your own business? Solve world hunger. Get out of my closet'

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