What are you doing here?

Speaking of New Year’s resolutions, how far away are you now from finally admitting that it’s not going to happen?

Sheepish much?

I gave in from the very beginning. I said I was not going to make one because I knew I was not going to live up to it, and I lived up to that. Yay.

Rare readers, please tell me you’re in a better state.

Apart from feeling like a total shithole, I am more out of my mind than I have ever been. My job drives me crazy like it did to Britney when she decided to razor away her beautiful locks. She was probably craving for a turning point and a fresh, bald start.

For me, it’s crazy hair, crazy clothes, and a crazy-ass tattoo. Here’s a picture:

I hate my job.

The tattoo’s hidden by the magnificently apparent hairiness of my arms in distraught. No kidding.

Remember when I said it took me five months to write my first post? I drafted this second one in February with the initial intention to turn it into a list – a list of things that I like about my job and another of what I hated.

I don’t know about you, but for me to get to that point of having to resort to little gimmicks like this, deep down inside I just wanted out and I knew it well enough for me to hate myself for pretending that I could be convinced by a pathetic little list.

Prior to that, I was already thinking twice about what I did for a living. Everyone I know has been telling me how I would be better off doing something else. It’s probably the same for you too if majority of the following applies:

  • You have an impressive job title that however fails horrendously to impress by the time you get to the point of having to explain what it is that you are really doing
  • You have an impressive paycheck that makes people make you feel grossly overpaid for what it is that you are really doing
  • You don’t give a damn about that but that impressive paycheck is mainly what makes you stay to do what it is that you are really doing
  • And you think you should be thankful to even have a job
  • That is what you can’t not give a damn about
  • Plus, you don’t give a damn about what it is that you are really doing and it is all that you are doing
  • Nobody else does and it is pissing everyone off that we have to pretend it all matters when it really doesn’t
  • You wonder about what you are not doing when your colleagues ask ‘what are you doing here’ and you have no idea what to say
  • You’ve had someone cuss at you in their native tongue in your face and all you wanted to do was laugh
  • Nothing works properly where you work and you’re expected to be working
  • “There’s coral, there’s rocks, there’s whale poop, and then there’s you!” Yet there you are always with the other cleaner wrasses, stuck at the top with the Don Linos
  • Here, they are bratty birdbrains who think money is everything and you hate that it’s true
  • Since you started working here, you’ve been bribed, developed screaming feet and grouchy backs, and mistaken on countless occasions for what you are not but in a bad way
  • Lately, you keep getting random reminders of what you thought you could do with your job only to realise it’s time to wake up

To top it all off, you end up nowhere and you think you should be okay with that for now. And what makes it worse is that I am really okay with what I do.

However, I should stress that none of it matters anymore. Because right now as I am clocking in an official attempt to finally finish this post since it started weighing in on me about a month ago, I would also like to announce that it is actually my last day of work today.

I guess I’m probably not as okay as I thought I was. Sorry.

Come to think of it, I might actually get to blog about job interview anecdotes and unemployed fresh grad frustrations after all. Whoopee.

Have you ever been back to Square One after a whole bunch of hoo-hah wrapped up in pretty expectations that you can blame nobody but yourself for? Tell me about it.

“What are you doing here?”

And I still have no freakin’ idea.


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