The number two

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I now live in Eastwood City. A private community-ala replica of a luxurious metropolitan-where everything is splendidly put to make one feels like a VIP.

I have been here for two weeks. I got a job offer after two weeks. Everything happened in "two" lately.

I flew here with two tickets. The first ticket that I purchased online through my sister's credit card was denied due to my inability to present the Philippine Airline's requirements: photocopy of the credit card used and photocopy of my sister's valid ID. My sister lives in Florida. The card is in Florida. Her IDs are in Florida. Desperate to fly in the same plane with my partner, I was in dilemma between purchasing a same flight ticket of about six thousand pesos or a cheaper one on a different flight. I took the latter. Two different flights.

We finished two bottles of alcohol (Mojitos and Bacardi) in two weeks. Watched two movies in Eastwood Mall. Applied for a job in two companies and two headhunters. Celebrated twice for the job with an expensive frozen yogurt and costly cinnamon breads in the following day. Partied two times. The two of us got sick. I am now taking two antibiotics a day.

I live in tower two of a 3-tower condominium. Now looking at my Givenchy watch, it is two in the morning, Philippine time. Thanks God for the number 2.