Friday 27 November 2015

Still singing the same old song...

I read back my old blog posts from a year and a half ago and came to the dreadful realisation that not much has changed.

Still singing the same old song where I'm feeling sorry about myself, reminiscing too much of the supposedly glorious past, not doing much about making things better or striving for change for the better....

I feel like hitting myself. Today was the day where I realised that there's no point looking for a job that I would love getting up in the morning for. 

THERE'S NO SUCH THING. 

Optimists will say, there's always one bad day or two..., and unknowingly, that bad day or two had stretched into nearly two years now. This enlightenment came after the boss 'had a word' with me about decrease in income and lack of proactive productivity from my one-and-a-half man department. 

I had vowed never to be chained to my desk during office hours. I end up doing so despite part of my job scope is to go outdoors.

I had vowed to avoid sales and high levels of interaction with people where they are to be persuaded to part with their money. Unfortunately I'm being warned reminded constantly that public relations - which includes some sort of salesmanship - is very much 80% of my job scope. 

To be honest, I've had a few long-ish weekends where I have some time to myself to think things through and do some serious adult-thinking. But it never happens as I end up reading or sleeping the entire day. Even cleaning up seems to be half-hearted. 

Despite having to meet people, I feel happiest when I'm "OOO" which means Out Of Office. No, I don't have colleagues from hell that I hear a lot of, and that's a blessing. I have a management that may be budget-tight with big dreams but after each admonishing, I walk away not dispirited and disheartened but quite the opposite - more annoyed and frustrated at myself for not doing my best when I could but didn't due to lack of prioritising or enthusiasm; wishing for more time and self-discipline.

After all that, I know I do need a break. A real one where I don't think of impending workload or overworrying about things to come that I have no control - and that's scary. The danna is constantly reminding me to let go of things I cannot control, not to let my emotions run me, that there's really no point in spending effort and time on happenstances that cannot be helped, or let everyone and anything get to me. 

He might not know I use him as a tissue for my anxiety tears 
but he really is my pillar of strength to hold back that ceiling of fear. 




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