I have an ocean’s worth swimming in my head right now. Some are as fierce as sharks in clamping onto my attention. Others are like little minnows that flit in and out of consciousness. Some are big, Jonah-style fishes that seem to loom over everything else.

Here’s a sample of my fishies:

I wish I can move back to 924. I wish it were 2010 already. I wish that I can get past the QLC confusion and just live.

I wish I had an 8-day week. I wish academic papers wrote themselves. I wish the library would stay open until midnight. I wish our grades were 99% class participation. I wish classes before 12 noon disappear. And that I’ll stop procastinating and filling my schedule to bursting.

I wish I can eat all I want and not suffer the consequences. I wish I had a body clock. I wish I can motivate myself to exercise more.  I wish my allergies would just go away. And that contact lenses aren’t so uncomfortable.

I wish I had a coffee press, black boots and a laser printer. I wish I knew how to pick my own clothes. I really, really wish I had a laptop with wifi. I wish I owned all my favorite books in hardcover with those wonderful glossy colored jackets.

I wish I can watch Twilight. And Lea Salonga perform as Cinderella. And Les Miserables in Broadway. Or just attend a musical theater worskhop.

But some of my wishes have come true. Here are some of the fishes I’ve caught:

I went to Cebu 5 years ago and to Bacolod last summer and in both instances, witnessed something truly magnificent. I’m studying in Diliman and reading a lot. I’m attending Life-Growth, a one year Bible course, which miraculously did not conflict with my schedule. I have a baby to harass play with adore (a little early though). As of this week, I have tutorial students again and thus a parttime job. I’m on better terms with her now. I have an official accountability triad, after 5 years. I can now sing alto without being drowned by my choirmates. My wisdom teeth are gone, happiness! Another wish granted: belonging here and there for 8 years now.

The past 3 years have also given me this: I know what I’m not supposed to do and where I’m not supposed to be. Whatever people may say to the contrary.

I now have more than an inkling of what I’ll do for the next two years. And a lot of exciting hints on what comes after that.