A Disappearing Act

Tallied it up to eleven months, and I cannot wait for next month to come as much as I don’t want it to. Yes, you heard me right. Let me explain.

On my last post, I mentioned that I needed to make a huge decision in the first week of the new year, and so I did. My term in this job will end next February.

It should make me feel relieved, shouldn’t it? It should make me feel less burdened since it meant I have to only spend six more weeks and then I will no longer be involved with unnecessary drama anymore. But it also means that it is exactly six more weeks before I (hopefully not) am a miserable jobless bum yet again, half-regretting my choice to leave before I secure another job. Yeah, way to go with helping out the family and all.

On the other hand, I reckon what makes me worry a lot is the fact that I am going to have a new boss in three days and will need to answer to him for at least one whole month. Also, his temporary replacement is not someone whose working style matches mine. First of all, I want the next three days to pass quickly, but then I am also super anxious for the rest of January up to the day I leave because I had no idea about how things will turn out while working with this boss. I found myself taking a deep, long breath as I finished writing this part.

Then again, I cannot do anything else but roll with it, can I? I’m also applying for any vacancies I laid my eyes on, so keeping my fingers crossed tight for that.

Another thing that has been bothering with me was my last conversations with my two previous bosses before they left. With the first boss, I find it harder communicating with compared with the second one. I had my share of mistakes as well, which I am not proud of, so I thought it was better for us to have a handshake, bid farewell, and leave it at that. But on their last day, they both are nice enough to say, “You have done well.” This triggered so many thoughts, mostly originated from this impostor syndrome I am forever doomed to be struggling with.

See, the working culture in my current office is that words like, “You have done a good job”, and, “You have worked hard”, are thrown away casually whenever any of the staff finishes their work or their shift for the day. Of course, it is nice to have people acknowledge that every end of the day, but then again, when the same words are being used a little too much–almost like a greeting–don’t they lose meaning in the process? The moment I heard them being said, I immediately brushed it off as nothing I should not take seriously. But left to my own devices, I suddenly felt sixteen-year-old me took over; a time when I wasn’t too fond of people when they are “just saying words”, because I could not really understand the point of it. It made me feel so self-conscious about other people’s perception, and the realization that I actually care annoyed me immensely. I hate it because it seemed like I haven’t learnt much after ten years of supposed self-development and reinvention. Pfft.

Life is getting too tiring, and I really don’t have anything to look forward to, be it within this year, next year or the next five years. I have already felt defeated by this year when it has barely started.

I don’t know, maybe I should stop trying at all. I have stopped hoping for the best years ago, because somehow the world doesn’t think I deserve it. I am close to call bullshit on preparing for the worst, because life is always waiting in the corner to mess everything up and I am left with nothing to expect. I should just accept the fact that I will slowly go numb, then selfish, and finally conceited since, so far, that is the only thing that work and adulthood demanded me to be to survive. But I can’t.

Now that I found one escape path for the former, I should probably be more grateful. If only I was the only one at stake.

One month to go, and afterwards, I can’t think of anything else but an opportunity for me to start anew.

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Who Would’ve Thunk It’s 2018?

Another year, another gratuitous early year blog post.
Without further ado, allow me to begin with this snazzy infographic on how the past year has been for me.

2017 year in review

On the achievement side of things, I did manage to go from jobless to employed af. By that, I mean, at least for the first 7 months, the word “weekends” and “relaxation” have never been more unrelated. Having been at the job for 11 months, at a glance, this surely is something worth a pat on my back, or so I thought. There’s too much office drama going on that somehow made its way to entangle everyone, including me, and I honestly can’t stand it anymore. Yet I am also constantly worried about the prospect of having to be penniless in the upcoming months before I can find a new job.

But, truly, I don’t think I should doom myself to this for another year. I don’t think my irregular counseling sessions will suffice to get me through.

It’s funny because, in hindsight, the whole thesis-writing agony in 2016 does not seem so bad.

I read in between my commutes, which is hard because it usually takes 2.5 to 3 hours for me to reach home, and the bus is overwhelmingly crowded. At times, my brain simply refused to grasp more information after work that picking up my ebook reader seems too much. I was devastated for a while because reading used to cheer me up a lot, but now because of the routine, I am reduced to functioning as a numb robot that craves only for food and sleep, which will never be enough.

Not only that I read fewer books, I also write less this past year. This blog has contained nothing but my monthly evaluation of how work has been and whether I am staying or leaving. So far, it’s 10:0, with all votes against staying. But this financial concern has been eating me as much as my internal rejection of remaining in the job, which drives me nuts.

Still, I am thankful for some of my colleagues who have been so helpful that somehow I felt like I have gained new friends at work. The family is still struggling with dysfunctionality, but well, I can’t do anything about it but brood about it on my bad days and stay patient about it on my good days. Anyways, everyone is trying to keep it together, so I guess that’s quite enough. I just need some space, and distance, if possible. I can never be more grateful for the support of my closest friends who have made the dreadful weekdays endurable, as much as they have made the weekends and holidays worth anticipating. Oh, and the little surprise by the end of the year; I am glad to make it my first reunion ever.

Now, what to expect in 2018?

To begin with, I needed to make a huge decision within these 4 days. For my own sake, it would be too easy, but unfortunately, there are other factors which come into the equation. My only hope right now is that my panic alarm will not betray me with indecision on the due date.

Only then I would probably be able to think straight and plan out the year. I am starting a bullet journal, a bit worried about whether it will be helpful for me to sort things out and start healthier habits and keep being productive in reading and writing. But, what the hell, at least I’m giving it a go.

All in all, I just hope 2018 will suck less, and that came with the least amount of expectation I can gather with how dispiriting 2017 has been. Cheers for more regular therapy sessions and a new job opportunity!