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This means war

This has been a crazy Monday.

A client’s bail bid was not submitted for resolution today, with another hearing slated for next month. Meanwhile, he goes back to the provincial prison.

Then I went to the office and learned three disturbing things of national importance: 1) Dr. Licuanan’s resignation as CHED Chair; 2) Dante Jimenez appointment to a government post; and 3) SEC’s ruling dissolving the corporate entities behind Rappler.

Finally I have arrived home and could now enjoy serenity, away from cares of this world, reading my books amidst the purposeful chaos inside my room. I imagine letting that stray cockroach live another night, as finishing Grisham’s The Client is certainly more fun than killing that cockroach.

But what do I see when I got home? The tree in my front yard cut down. Who in his right mind would cut a tree which is not bothering anyone in this neighborhood and is simply growing peacefully in front of my house? I mean, why would anyone do that? He obviously knew that this is not his house, not his lot, and the owner of the lot is the owner of that tree. Granted, I did not plant that tree; it was already growing when I transferred here in August 2016. But the tree was not bothering anyone.
Whoever cut it did not even bother asking my permission. Not that I would give my permission.

This means war on a Tuesday.

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