Entry XI: Late Distribution
It was already the latter part of the week, and the Intramurals were close to wrapping up. Excitement filled the campus—at least for the other colleges. They paraded around with their colorful shirts, each proudly displaying their college colors and logos. I couldn't help but feel a bit of disappointment every time I saw them. Students from the College of Education, the Business Administration Department, and even the Maritime students—everyone was in their Intrams shirt, enjoying the festivities in full spirit. Except us.
We, from the College of Engineering, were yet to receive even a thread of what was promised. Not a single engineering student could be seen donning the Intrams shirt. It was frustrating. It felt like we were being left behind, excluded from the very thing that was supposed to unite the entire student body in fun and competition. I didn't want to make a fuss, but I knew I had to ask about it sooner or later. Someone had to.
I opened one of the private messages, prepared to reach out to one of the EDSA members I was on good terms with the Secretary, Maxwell Alexander Cabalen. Just as I was about to hit send, a notification popped up in our officers' group chat—a message from none other than our College Governor. It read:
"ATTN: Intrams Shirt Distribution and Short Meeting at 1:00 PM in Room 101. See you there."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Finally. Things were moving. And it couldn't have been better timed. We didn't have class in the afternoon since Mr. Valerio was attending a seminar in Nueva Madrid. I had a free schedule and all the energy to handle whatever the meeting had in store.
I headed straight to Room 101, arriving a few minutes before the appointed time. To my surprise, there were only a few of us. Four mayors, including myself, a fourth-year student, two second years, and another first-year student like me. We waited silently, most of us checking our phones, exchanging minimal conversation. The room was quiet except for the occasional sound of typing or the creak of the chairs as we shifted in place.
Ten minutes passed before the EDSA officers finally arrived. They entered the room in a bit of a flurry, carrying numerous plastic bags filled with what I assumed were our long-awaited shirts. From a glance, I could see labels marked from XS to XXL. I approached and asked about mine, but they told me to wait for further instructions. Fair enough. I took a seat and waited.
Soon after, the Vice Governor and Governor arrived, looking composed despite the late entry. The Governor then addressed us and began the procedure:
"You'll find sheets listing the names of your classmates. Each name corresponds with a shirt number and size. Please verify before distributing."
At that moment, a thought crossed my mind—some of my classmates were still finishing their assignments and might not make it on time. Since I was already present and had finished all my work, I decided to take the initiative.
I opened our class group chat and typed:
"@Everyone, the Intrams shirts are here. Once you're done with your assignments, you may come to the door of Room 101 and claim your shirts."
And just like that, I became the unofficial distributor of our section's Intrams shirts.
As the College Senator began calling out names and shirt numbers, it felt like we were playing a game of Bingo. I cross-referenced the list, checked the sizes, and carefully examined the pile of shirts. I repeated the process with every name mentioned. I updated the group chat again:
"Shirts can now be claimed. Check your names and sizes with me."
Midway through the distribution, the Governor decided to begin the meeting proper, starting with the 4th-year mayors. As they discussed, I noticed movement through the glass pane of the door. It was Yair, accompanied by Bailey and Carlos. I stepped out to greet them.
"Hey, can you hold onto the shirts for now and distribute them to anyone who comes by?" I asked, handing them the plastic bag.
They agreed. Relieved, I returned to the meeting room.
However, not long after, I noticed that the plastic bag of shirts had somehow ended up inside the room again. Unbelievable. They didn't hold onto it like I asked. I sighed and received a message from one of my classmates, asking if they could come now to claim their shirt.
Soon after, Jillian and Bella arrived at the door. I stepped out again.
"Can I count on you two to manage the shirts for a while? Distribute them to anyone who arrives."
"Sure," they both replied enthusiastically. I returned to the room, trusting they would follow through.
Inside, I finally understood why the three guys left earlier—Yair was probably called by Engr. Narvaez, Carlos might have had something to attend to, and Bailey, well, perhaps he just left. I didn't hold it against them.
Minutes later, Jillian messaged me:
"We left the bag at the door, but we already got eight shirts for our friends."
I was relieved, but there were still shirts left. At least part of the load had been taken care of.
The Governor soon shifted the discussion toward us, the first-year mayors. He introduced the idea of a new EDSA uniform. The design was sleek and formal, suitable for our roles. However, the second-year students were clearly baffled by the sudden change. A flurry of questions and concerns followed.
The Governor and Senator calmly addressed the commotion. They clarified that the new uniform would be distributed next year and was only mandatory for first-year officers as of now, specifically to be worn every Thursday.
The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Nothing too intense—mostly reminders and updates.
After everything was said and done, I went home. Exhaustion crept in slowly but surely. I made sure to update our group chat once more, giving one last reminder about the remaining shirts and thanking everyone who helped.
Then, I finally collapsed on my bed. My eyes shut the moment my head hit the pillow. But despite the whirlwind of a day, I was glad I kept things organized and kept everyone informed. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. We finally had our shirts, and even if it came late, I did my part.
One more duty crossed off the list.
Sleep, at last.
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