Netnet Camomot IT’S Wednesday morning, two days after Election Day, and I wake up to a nerveacking count for the vice president. Add to that the tummy that's going berserk, no thanks to my recently reacquired habit of eating like there's no tomorrow for many days, and making up for all the bad food by switching to purely aloe, tea and protein shake. The tummy becomes confused. And when that tummy is confused, all I wanna do is write this column, and sleep away the rest of the day. Even Facebook, Messenger, and text messages make me tired. And gotta turn off the electric fan and air conditioner--wind makes my skin crawl. But it’s a Wednesday and Rotary work, er, passion awaits: a meeting in the evening, a letter for the city mayor to be prepared, a project on Saturday, a project the next weekend, flyers and tarpaulin layout details to be sent to the printing guys, etc. I'm looking out the window while sipping the tea, trying to decipher if the tummy is taking the tea well. But all I want is to go back to sleep. Forget about eating. I try to lift the mug of protein shake which my tired tummy analyzes. My minute brain is saying, Sleep, sleep, sleep. But there's no more time to sleep. It's time to stay awake and hope the shake will stay down. But the tummy goes berserk again after breakfast, thus, the need to send SOS signals to my sis-in-law/doctor. She says, Take two tabs of tummy meds, sip a little water, and observe for three hours. I ask, May I drink more water within those three hours? She replies, Sips lang. Too weak to stand up, I sit down, prepare the 20 covers for that night's weekly club bulletin, write a check for the groceries, and back to bed to sleep the three hours away. But have to adjust the pillows first otherwise, uh, there goes the tummy again. There's no day off for a club president. Your term starts on July 1 and ends a year later on June 30. You have no excuse to be human, to be not nice, to be not kind. You're expected to utter only the sweetest words, to keep your mouth shut when you have nothing sweet to say, and to have a sweet smile on your face all the time. You're not allowed to be angry and to show frustration and disappointment. And you have to make everything look so easy. In other words, please don't write about what you're going through, like what I'm doing now. Oops. You don't get paid for the presidential work, er, passion. Instead, you're the one spending money in addition to all the work, er, passion you have to do. Yes, you always have the choice of doing nothing at all, to sit back and wait for the meeting to end, to stare at the sky instead of helping the people living under that sky, to say, Bahala na si Batman, and wait for Wonder Woman to help him out. But that's not your nature. So, here you are, torn between sleeping the whole day and continuing your Rotary work, er, passion. Despite the tummy, I'm already thinking, the letter for the city mayor will probably start with, Congratulations! That has been my fave greeting for him during the rare times we meet. Like as if the official count is over and he has been declared as the winner. That's the Law of Attraction: own it and don't merely hope for it, you're already there, you're the mayor again. And he wins. Yehey! What a wonderful world indeed for him. The campaign season chika was that the violet mayor would win, or it's going to be a close fight between the yellow and orange mayoral candidates. But the yellow from Balingasag wins again, with the violet from Tagoloan ending up in second place. While orange, who was expected to win this election since he's the only Cagayanon candidate, has to settle for third place. The vice mayor is also yellow and most Cagayanons are probably heaving a deep sigh of relief as they look forward to a city council that can finally work together with the mayor, unlike the present set that has made the yellow mayor's term, hmmm, miserable? The non-yellow losers may have to stay away from city hall for three years. But if the yellows can be friendly again with the oranges, then Cagayan de Oro will have an exciting yellow-orange color. As for a yellow-violet combination, hmmm. Better have generous servings of ube-mango ice cream because that's probably the only way those two colors can work together. Now that we know CDO's winners and those who ended up second and third, this can be the lesson learned for CDO's political colors: the secret is to let your minions shine instead of grabbing attention all the time. The race towards the vice presidential throne is still going on and on and on as of this writing. Robredo versus Marcos. Tsinelas versus 3,000 pairs of shoes. Yellow versus red. Beauty versus... uh. No need to write the word for that last one. And we, the madlang pehpohl who were around during martial law, remain hopeful. July 1, 2016 will be a new day for Pinas. Curfew, no traffic violations, no smoking, no drinking, no drugs. And it will be a new day for me. No more presidential work, er, passion. Yehey!