Day 270/366

It seems quite pathetic how being employed works. I have fever and I’m still sitting in the freezing office with a throbbing headache without an escape route in hand. To make matters worse, I have to attend a storytelling session for children after two hours, which will not start on time. My mother’s in town just to meet me and I’ll be given assignments everyday while she is here knowing that no one is really interested in reading them. This is probably my headache talking but I want to crib. I’m not allowed to do potty talk anymore because I have been banned from doing so by the person who usually seems to value my opinion. I want to complain to him but I fear he is in deep slumber for the night is when he wakes, the morning, sleeps. Such an owl, I tell you! I don’t think I know too many insomniacs anymore. THAT is another doing of this bloody career that all of us are trying to build without really wanting to. Maybe I do, secretly. Who knows?

Also, I would like to point out to anyone who is still reading that I have been clumsy all day long. Sedate me! I have a whole new set of scratches and bumps in various parts of my body. Oh, and my body aches in ways I never imagined possible. I need a hug. And I don’t want the hugger to let go till I fall asleep and drool on their shoulder or till my nose runs out of mucus to smear on his/her shirt. 

Day 248/366

I have finally started understanding the search for contentment that most human beings embark upon after a certain age. I'm not keeping mine as an active mission or anything though. I'm just saying that there's a reason why people don't always try to oversimplify life. It isn't that you WANT it to be complicated or stressful but sometimes, it just becomes that and it's not in your hands to.

I recently had a Sunday all to myself where nothing was demanded of me and I realized how disorienting it was to experience that. My life at some point during college used to be shallow and high and I don't remember what exactly I did then. But it wasn't my choice to leave that behind and not fail and actually land my first job. And when that began, I couldn't just turn around and say that the responsibility was too much for the amount I was being paid. I didn't know what the feeling of being paid for your contribution was till now, let alone for an awesome newspaper that a lot of people in this city seem to actually be reading. It feels worth it when you get follow up calls based on specific articles you've written and when you can treat your loved ones with your first salary.

But it's equally frustrating as well. It's not nice to not have your mother to come back home and crib to after a long day's work. But it's a part and parcel of life. I'm supposed to look at the bigger picture. In that f***ing bigger picture, I wasn't told that the events I cover end so late that I have no time to have a social life but for the strangers I interact with for quotes. I wasn't told that it will be frowned upon to flirt with that sexy guy across the hall because the news might reach your editor. It's not fair. But you suck it up and do it. I can't blame my genes for the premature greying of my hair. It's happening. And I wish life was stress-free and that I had time for exercise and to meet a friend for a drink or to Skype with my mother. But life's a real bitch sometimes. And that bitch pays well and makes you feel financially independent but it doesn't change the way it takes over your life and makes you truly experience the Monday morning blues.