This was my preggo days. Unbeknownst, I visited my OB-Gyne just thrice. The first two for the sonography of the tiny life budding in my tummy. The third time was because of an impending urinary tract infection. I had more time reading this book than supposed visits to an OB-Gyne. G-d had been so good to me and had me a safe delivery of a daughter. The self-help book reached another hand of an expectant friend. Whiling time during not-so-hectic clinic duty, I laid a book to gorge on. One co-employee barged in for a photo op. I met these young minds when I was in Caloocan. One day, we found ourselves dating threesome in a library. Suddenly, I felt like I belonged! Ah! The student days. No, I don't want to mention my "extended" years of stay studying that degree Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.
My thoughts of the devilish and cherubic borne me a diarist. The usual norm: we all started on pencils and paper or the wall or the table with our sticks and loops overlapped and out of borders and lines. These doodles turned to syllables from printing vowels and consonants complicating to words, phrases and sentences. I soon graduated the writing drills of cursive being able to write more than to voice out to express myself. Find the me in this virtual world.