I do consider myself to be a bit of a workaholic, mostly because I try to ride the influx of work without any system, I am trying to learn believe me, but having a job that pretty much means catering to every need of every employee in the company, there isn't much of a system that can really handle that.
So anyway, at around ungodly 8pm yesterday my boss asked what time I will be coming in today (Sunday), and I told him that I won't, not only because I am not supposed to be working on a Saturday but there I was and I needed rest, but I was planning of going to Church (which is becoming increasingly hard, with this funk I got going on, coupled with the stress brought on by my crazy family and demanding work). I respectfully declined him and gave my explanation, he smirked in a way that is both insulting and degrading, like no amount of wanting to be with the House of the Lord can undo all the mishaps I am committing in the office. I told him that no matter what he needs me to do, I either can finish last night or do on Monday instead. He waved me off and went home without saying another word.
I finished most of the queued up tasks I have for next week and took note of the rest to be done on Monday, pretty soon it was late, really really unreasonably late.
I went home at 03:30 am and upon getting in the car, I couldn't help but cry. I was trying to be really quiet about it and even tried to hide behind the driver seat, but I guess he noticed. I was all made up yesterday, make up and garb, thinking that the whole OT will take quicker and there's a probability that I can have dinner with this guy I am seeing, but as earlier narrated my manager had other plans, ergo I must have looked like I have been dumped (I couldn't really blame him, what with my wine colored lips and dark mascara streaming down my face). He turned down the radio and spoke in this really low comforting way. The good driver said (I guess he was pushing 60s) something about having to go through necessary pains to be able to get the things we deserve. And though I am crying about a totally different thing, it all made sense. I calmed down a bit and thanked him politely. He told me to sleep till we get to my place, sort of a reboot and I was thankful, the suggestion was welcomed also because it was a shared drive and we were on our way to pick up another passenger then, it will be a bit awkward for all parties involved if the new passenger would open the door and sees that the first passenger had bloodshot eyes.
When I got home, I cried a little more and slipped into a troubled sleep. I only managed to properly wake up twice today, once at 8am and earlier at 5:34pm. I just skipped an entire day.
I am writing this down publicly because there is this need to unload this heaviness even though I know no one really read my stuff, at least it's out there in the world now. I thought I managed to triumph over the so called quarter life crisis (I used to mock this pseudo condition, there are no space for this kind of weakness from where I am from), but the stresses of life and work is getting to me again.
Perhaps, a short nap will make me feel better. Yeah, maybe.
So anyway, at around ungodly 8pm yesterday my boss asked what time I will be coming in today (Sunday), and I told him that I won't, not only because I am not supposed to be working on a Saturday but there I was and I needed rest, but I was planning of going to Church (which is becoming increasingly hard, with this funk I got going on, coupled with the stress brought on by my crazy family and demanding work). I respectfully declined him and gave my explanation, he smirked in a way that is both insulting and degrading, like no amount of wanting to be with the House of the Lord can undo all the mishaps I am committing in the office. I told him that no matter what he needs me to do, I either can finish last night or do on Monday instead. He waved me off and went home without saying another word.
I finished most of the queued up tasks I have for next week and took note of the rest to be done on Monday, pretty soon it was late, really really unreasonably late.
I went home at 03:30 am and upon getting in the car, I couldn't help but cry. I was trying to be really quiet about it and even tried to hide behind the driver seat, but I guess he noticed. I was all made up yesterday, make up and garb, thinking that the whole OT will take quicker and there's a probability that I can have dinner with this guy I am seeing, but as earlier narrated my manager had other plans, ergo I must have looked like I have been dumped (I couldn't really blame him, what with my wine colored lips and dark mascara streaming down my face). He turned down the radio and spoke in this really low comforting way. The good driver said (I guess he was pushing 60s) something about having to go through necessary pains to be able to get the things we deserve. And though I am crying about a totally different thing, it all made sense. I calmed down a bit and thanked him politely. He told me to sleep till we get to my place, sort of a reboot and I was thankful, the suggestion was welcomed also because it was a shared drive and we were on our way to pick up another passenger then, it will be a bit awkward for all parties involved if the new passenger would open the door and sees that the first passenger had bloodshot eyes.
When I got home, I cried a little more and slipped into a troubled sleep. I only managed to properly wake up twice today, once at 8am and earlier at 5:34pm. I just skipped an entire day.
I am writing this down publicly because there is this need to unload this heaviness even though I know no one really read my stuff, at least it's out there in the world now. I thought I managed to triumph over the so called quarter life crisis (I used to mock this pseudo condition, there are no space for this kind of weakness from where I am from), but the stresses of life and work is getting to me again.
Perhaps, a short nap will make me feel better. Yeah, maybe.
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