Blues... The Bad Case of Itchy Backside
Arghh! If I don't find a job soon, I'm afraid I'll go very mad.
I have imagined I'll enjoy this lull period of zoboing. The thought of not working sounded appealing when I was utterly, utterly drained from working 16-17 hours a day. Then, I had to run in-out-up-down-left-right (pick your own combi: left-down-up-out-right-in, or...), talk to the department, make calls, trouble-shoot the system, look at spreadsheets, and I had deadlines and a million issues chasing after my backside. All the time.
It's awfully unhealthy if one forgets to drink water, has fitful sleep and gets right fit to be sent off to Caffeine Anonymous. (Don't we all agree, coffee is THE SAVIOUR of all mankind!) Mind you, this will go on for months on end, especially when there is Q3 forecast, and year-end closing, and audit, and an e-nv-ren in the department.
I wished for the day when I can have the freedom to sleep 8 adequate hours (oh, adequate for me is actually 10, but 8'll do fine for the illustration here), when I owe no one nothing, when I can blank out my drowsy, post-lunch mind instead of having had to perform emergency resuscitation on it with caffeine.
But the despicable awful truth about this blogger is, having nothing to do all day makes me feel really useless. The greymatter that is not stimulated enough threatens to frizz up, and I'm now suffering from the panic calls of wasting brain cells.
And, what with the soon-to-be lost beloved U-brand, the grim articles in The Economist (they are never bright and cheery huh), and all the dystopian novels that I've got hooked on, the world has taken on a dark shade of grey.
Sigh!
Sigh!!
SIGH!!!
Okay...
Maybe this is just Monday blues getting to me.
I really should stop whining.
I should go swimming. Pack my mess from Shanghai. Read Her World (7 Ways To Get That Guy!), and re-read Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.
Desperation is the worst state for mind to be in. (When it's officially depression, there is, at least, the fattening but extremely effective Prozac.)
Desperation clouds any judgement of situation with pessimism. And then, I'll cleverly agree to utterly stupid conditions - like S$6-an-hour pay for project management responsibilities, and working from home for free. I can't complain because I wasn't duped into it. I just wished I wasn't the dumbo bimbo who hadn't opened my small (sorry to interrupt - I mean small and no less attractive) eyes WIDER.
...
I have decided to be toughie. And when the going gets tough, the tough goes off to Compasspoint for a good lunch and the latest copy of Her World. (And learn how to get that guy...)
I have imagined I'll enjoy this lull period of zoboing. The thought of not working sounded appealing when I was utterly, utterly drained from working 16-17 hours a day. Then, I had to run in-out-up-down-left-right (pick your own combi: left-down-up-out-right-in, or...), talk to the department, make calls, trouble-shoot the system, look at spreadsheets, and I had deadlines and a million issues chasing after my backside. All the time.
It's awfully unhealthy if one forgets to drink water, has fitful sleep and gets right fit to be sent off to Caffeine Anonymous. (Don't we all agree, coffee is THE SAVIOUR of all mankind!) Mind you, this will go on for months on end, especially when there is Q3 forecast, and year-end closing, and audit, and an e-nv-ren in the department.
I wished for the day when I can have the freedom to sleep 8 adequate hours (oh, adequate for me is actually 10, but 8'll do fine for the illustration here), when I owe no one nothing, when I can blank out my drowsy, post-lunch mind instead of having had to perform emergency resuscitation on it with caffeine.
But the despicable awful truth about this blogger is, having nothing to do all day makes me feel really useless. The greymatter that is not stimulated enough threatens to frizz up, and I'm now suffering from the panic calls of wasting brain cells.
And, what with the soon-to-be lost beloved U-brand, the grim articles in The Economist (they are never bright and cheery huh), and all the dystopian novels that I've got hooked on, the world has taken on a dark shade of grey.
Sigh!
Sigh!!
SIGH!!!
Okay...
Maybe this is just Monday blues getting to me.
I really should stop whining.
I should go swimming. Pack my mess from Shanghai. Read Her World (7 Ways To Get That Guy!), and re-read Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.
Desperation is the worst state for mind to be in. (When it's officially depression, there is, at least, the fattening but extremely effective Prozac.)
Desperation clouds any judgement of situation with pessimism. And then, I'll cleverly agree to utterly stupid conditions - like S$6-an-hour pay for project management responsibilities, and working from home for free. I can't complain because I wasn't duped into it. I just wished I wasn't the dumbo bimbo who hadn't opened my small (sorry to interrupt - I mean small and no less attractive) eyes WIDER.
...
I have decided to be toughie. And when the going gets tough, the tough goes off to Compasspoint for a good lunch and the latest copy of Her World. (And learn how to get that guy...)
posted by kite @ 9/20/2004 11:51:00 am
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