An Economic Review

I love my Economics subject. No kidding. I love it.

But as the cliché goes, Economics doesn't love me back. In fact, it loathes me.

So okay, I don't exactly have a smooth friendship with Economics. We're casual, and it's enough we understand each other's mood swings and brain hemispheres and cognitive and intellectual abilities. Of course, Econ (the nickname) is way up there, and I'm down here. But for years I've been trying to make sense out of broadsheets' business pages, and it's only now that I partly ignore the forex rate (naks, "forex") and thank God the inflation's growing smoothly and slowly. See? I understand Econ, but why oh why do I have to take it further ...

... as in further ...

until the Finals exam!

It loathes me. Why can't it just reciprocate my love? After all, I tried convincing Mother Dear to use Ariel laundry soap as a form of affection towards my professor, host and Ariel endorser Winnie Monsod, who doesn't even know I exist.

I guess Mass Comm students more or less have the same fate. Make us write all you want, but don't let us do Economics. We can face the cameras, report, act, make documentaries, cover the biggest, most dangerous beats, skip out three days of sleep and whatever. Econ is just not our turf.

Especially me. I mean me. Really.

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