Bugger
“Aus could have been better but I just have to know for sure.”
A quarter past 2 in the morning and I stare blankly into the blinking cursor. Not wanting to write and yet not wanting to sleep. The trouble is really, I need to write. As many would have figured by now, I’m a Planning and Design graduate (in other words reads: Not-quite-an-architect-but-good-enough-to-work-really-underpaid-under-many). As such, I need 6 months of practical experience to be eligible for the subsequent 2 more years of university to get my degree in what I’m suppose to be getting. I have 3 months of that. I resigned from the last freaking job because it was becoming rather unhealthy, do understand the firm is a prominent one in Malaysia, hence they tend to be a little ignorant and egoistic which translate to being understaffed and still giving ridiculously short deadlines to clients, because of course, it’s a big player in the field. Remember what those moral lessons back in school if you’re from Malaysia, the Sunday classes in church if you’ve attended those or one of those nagging’s your mom gave; pride is sin. The firm has clearly sinned and so have I. Must be the pressure arising from work during that trying times that I got really pissed that other people are messing about with their schedules and authority which in turn was messing up my schedule and quality of work. That was enough to piss me off outright, prompted me to finish off my leaves and went back into the office with my resignation letter. That’s definitely a proud and bolt move, maybe one too soon, but still proud. Well now, after a month of eating away at all the weekends spent in the office back then, it isn’t too proud to say I need to send a cover letter, my curriculum vitae and the rest of the works in to another egoistic big firm by morning, as I promised the HR lady this afternoon. The problem is, here I am staring at the blinking cursor, not wanting to write my cover letter and needing to do it before morning. Can’t things be a little easier? Well, I guess not, it’s probably me. Fuck.
A quarter past 2 in the morning and I stare blankly into the blinking cursor. Not wanting to write and yet not wanting to sleep. The trouble is really, I need to write. As many would have figured by now, I’m a Planning and Design graduate (in other words reads: Not-quite-an-architect-but-good-enough-to-work-really-underpaid-under-many). As such, I need 6 months of practical experience to be eligible for the subsequent 2 more years of university to get my degree in what I’m suppose to be getting. I have 3 months of that. I resigned from the last freaking job because it was becoming rather unhealthy, do understand the firm is a prominent one in Malaysia, hence they tend to be a little ignorant and egoistic which translate to being understaffed and still giving ridiculously short deadlines to clients, because of course, it’s a big player in the field. Remember what those moral lessons back in school if you’re from Malaysia, the Sunday classes in church if you’ve attended those or one of those nagging’s your mom gave; pride is sin. The firm has clearly sinned and so have I. Must be the pressure arising from work during that trying times that I got really pissed that other people are messing about with their schedules and authority which in turn was messing up my schedule and quality of work. That was enough to piss me off outright, prompted me to finish off my leaves and went back into the office with my resignation letter. That’s definitely a proud and bolt move, maybe one too soon, but still proud. Well now, after a month of eating away at all the weekends spent in the office back then, it isn’t too proud to say I need to send a cover letter, my curriculum vitae and the rest of the works in to another egoistic big firm by morning, as I promised the HR lady this afternoon. The problem is, here I am staring at the blinking cursor, not wanting to write my cover letter and needing to do it before morning. Can’t things be a little easier? Well, I guess not, it’s probably me. Fuck.
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