I am having a hard time trying to fathom how it exactly came to this. I cannot help but be excited while I am packing my things, closing this chapter of my life from what I called home for almost two years. I can still remember the same anxiety I felt as I entered the four walls of the office on that day of September 21, 2010.
I planned to be an employee to keep myself busy, to save myself from the emptiness of my house. When I landed a job, I found out that having a nine-to-five work is not too far away from being a bum. I watched myself getting acquainted with the subversive subculture of a big company. I was slowly permeating the norms as I reap the latest grapevine from my spacious cubicle. I was managing my finances from my own paycheck – if managing means fifty percent goes to food and the rest for gas. Suddenly, I was no longer a useless member of society. Little by little, I was hoarding clutters from my room onto my workspace while I sip a cup of coffee from what could have been the ultimate yuppie dream.
A few months later, I was transferred to another cubicle, which is just a few inches longer than my left arm. It is an epiphany of a cheap company, squeezing robots in their money-factory. I was drifting away from the realms of a good career. Crammed and sleepless, I could summarize my job description in random order: 1) read emails 2) face ungrateful employees 3) take orders and 4) pick up other people’s shit. Despite my personal office entertainment of creep-stalking the owner’s children, there were times when I wanted to kill myself just by walking in the building. Everything went from interestingly boring to downright boring.
Everytime I work, I come up with theories on why I am doing what I am doing. I could never understand how dreaming of becoming rich while working for the rich is an acceptable idea. Plans never work. Goals are a waste of time. If you do the same things everyday and expect something spectacular to happen, you are driving yourself crazy. The heck with organization, nobody should be comfortable with status and labels. Sure, you may love your job, but does your job ever love you back?
Struggling and drowning in a quicksand of questions is an affirmation that the next logical move is to take off my hideous uniform and start living the life I wanted. Though I am not exactly sure what that is, I would rather spend my next few weeks pondering what it may be than waste my time convincing myself that this is what I should be doing.
Even if I initially felt sorry for myself for how everything turned out, there is still one positive adjective that this whole experience made me. Grateful. And I want to take this space in expressing just that.
To my friends in my department, thank you for welcoming me into a niche I have sought comfort in. Thank you for accepting the weird little kid that I am. I am thankful for your company, for your friendship and for making me feel that I belong, a feeling I never thought could be possibly felt at that time. You will sincerely be missed.
I want to thank our department head for flocking us out of pretend-leaders who are eternally waiting for the green light to magically appear out of boxed procedures. You give everyone hope and that is very important. That, on top of your excellence and envision.
To all my friends in the company, thank you for making me feel at home, for making me feel that I matter, and for making me feel close to normal for once in my life. I will forever treasure the six hundred and nine days I have spent with you. That is six hundred and nine days that no one can ever take away from me (and yes, MS Excel helped me count that). I will look back on those days without a hint of regret but with a smile on my face.
I would be lying if I say I do not fear the consequences of my decision. But I find comfort in knowing that being scared means you are about to do something brave. In a few weeks time, I will be moving on. Everyone will. Everything will turn out for the better. It has to. One thing is for sure, I will be bringing with me the memories I gained in this experience. I truly wish everyone well.
Cheers to the six hundred and nine days! For the good times and the bad, for the lessons everyone has instilled in me…this is duly noted. Thank you.