Where does time go? From the moment I open my eyes the seconds, minutes and hours sweep by. In a single blink, the sky erupts in a blanketing hue of orange and the darkness returns.
A week has passed since I stepped out of my daily routine. Just a week ago, I got out of bed at a certain time; hoped not to face traffic on the federal highway; fought a gnarling ball of anxiety in my stomach while my weathered Volvo careened up 17 floors up the cramped NST car-park; took a deep breath and opened the door to the lion's den to face yet another day as an incompetent employee.
Now I have a different type of anxiety churning in my stomach.
Although my time the past week has been an eventful. From my wheel bearing almost falling off while driving at a snail's pace to Cyberjaya in the cool night breeze; spending the little time with my boyfriend trying to the surpres the annoying buzz of worry building up in my mind to putting on my best face in the vain attempt at selling myself to prospective employers -- I feel like the sand in the hourglass is quickly sifting downwards.
Whether it's the anxiety of finding a new job before my bank balance reaches a measly five ringgit or the thought that I'm squandering time instead of writing my book or even the thought of an impending marriage or break-up in the next year -- my mind is running out of places to hide.
I stay awake during the night, staring at the computer screen with a cigarette in my hand, trying not to think of the what ifs.
What if I don't find a job? What if I don't finish my stories? What if I don't my article? What if I end up alone next year at the age of 26 going on 27?
As my boyfriend says, "Have faith and forget about the what ifs. Think about what to do."
If I only knew what to do...
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Starting over again...
The busy tapping of keys was eerily absent. Dark screens, empty chairs and haphazard piles of notes littered individual desks. Printed layouts of last week's issue lay folded and scattered on the big table.
Evidence of a busy work week nervously hibernated, awaiting yet another stressful week ahead.
But for me, I had stepped across the divide. I was no longer caught in the never ending cycle of deadlines, stifling pressure and two faced colleagues.
My presence in the dimly lit office was that of an ex-journalist with the simple task of clearing out her desk. As I sat down and turned on my computer for the last time, an unexpected heartache filled my chest.
I methodically started to put away my belongings into a bag - my meager collection of green stationary, name cards of the people I've met along the way, weathered notebooks. Bits and pieces of my personality left the now vacant desk.
A solitary stuffed monkey, who had seen me through the bad and the rare glimmer of good, sat peacefully on the desk. I stared into it's vacant yet knowing eyes and sighed.
The next step, clearing out evidence that I was ever at Property Times on my computer. File after file made its way to the recycle bin - memories of my experiences with each article flashed through my mind. Times where I had put my head in my hands and felt like screaming and crying at the same time.
With a simple click, my screen also darkened. I looked around the office with a melancholy smile. I had closed yet another chapter of my life.
It is time to leave behind a grueling year of my life and start anew. I picked up the monkey on my desk and stuffed it into my bag.
I have new places to discover and more grueling experiences to trudge through. Where? I know not yet. Mysteries and unknown futures in life are not as exciting as they used to be but there's one thing I can say for now, "Goodbye Property Times" and one more thing, "Fuck you Andrew Wong (Editor)!"
Evidence of a busy work week nervously hibernated, awaiting yet another stressful week ahead.
But for me, I had stepped across the divide. I was no longer caught in the never ending cycle of deadlines, stifling pressure and two faced colleagues.
My presence in the dimly lit office was that of an ex-journalist with the simple task of clearing out her desk. As I sat down and turned on my computer for the last time, an unexpected heartache filled my chest.
I methodically started to put away my belongings into a bag - my meager collection of green stationary, name cards of the people I've met along the way, weathered notebooks. Bits and pieces of my personality left the now vacant desk.
A solitary stuffed monkey, who had seen me through the bad and the rare glimmer of good, sat peacefully on the desk. I stared into it's vacant yet knowing eyes and sighed.
The next step, clearing out evidence that I was ever at Property Times on my computer. File after file made its way to the recycle bin - memories of my experiences with each article flashed through my mind. Times where I had put my head in my hands and felt like screaming and crying at the same time.
With a simple click, my screen also darkened. I looked around the office with a melancholy smile. I had closed yet another chapter of my life.
It is time to leave behind a grueling year of my life and start anew. I picked up the monkey on my desk and stuffed it into my bag.
I have new places to discover and more grueling experiences to trudge through. Where? I know not yet. Mysteries and unknown futures in life are not as exciting as they used to be but there's one thing I can say for now, "Goodbye Property Times" and one more thing, "Fuck you Andrew Wong (Editor)!"
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