It’s going to be a month soon and with the new job the situation is the same; I feel settled for a moment and then unsettled again. The demand for speed and promptness is break neck; while the network, outlook and pc are dumbf**k slow; they have failed to provide me even the basic stationary, there is a pencil but it’s without a sharpener; when I asked for a small whiteboard to keep tab of my appointments and assignments I was told that it’s not allowed, when I asked the manager why the account executives downstairs have had individual whiteboards, I was told in an ice cold tone: “ I would see what I can do about it.” And you can guess, nothing came about it. Soldier ants fall from the window and end up on my desk, dead in a while. There are termites in the drawer. There aren’t any tissues. I don’t know there is this stench of decay of recklessness. I am tired of following things outside the office with people and I am tired of following up with people inside the office, they need several reminders for even the smallest of tasks. When I try to talk to the content coordinator, I see him trying to ignore me, by looking at the pc or typing an sms, and I feel like slapping him. To top it off, this Saturday, I received the cover story from the editor-in-chief for the magazine I have been ‘entrusted’ with; it was heavily edited, with the instructions to play close attention to the changes so that I may ‘learn’. I don’t know, my work has always been published without intrusions from editors (minor changes, but nothing major till date). I was alright with that, as he is a senior and I do want to learn more, but I wasn’t ok with the fact that a crucial mythical parable which sort of made the backdrop of the cover story was tossed out. When I expressed my frustration with the other dude, he told me that the editor-in-chief in question does that to everyone, so I shouldn’t lose heart. Then the boss threw me menacing glances when he discovered one mistake (I wrote external relationships manager instead of external relations manager – well sorry I am trying to get my mind around the corporate terminologies). Later on, he told me that from now onwards my ‘playtime’ was over and I was expected to ‘own’ the magazine. And what made me wonder was that how am I supposed to ‘own’ it, when every idea I came up in the last issue was gloriously shot down by them. And how come the ownership wasn’t there, when I churned out content at the drop of the hat, and closed the content part way before the deadline (and the magazine is still getting late thanks to being stuck at the design end – and the lovely art director kept telling me ‘the magazine is going to be late and it’s all your fault.’). And I am sure, once my probation is over, they won’t increase the pay they promised, by making some excuse or the other. Too soon to say that for sure but I can feel it. And amusingly enough, whenever I talk to the designer, he first sees my face, then he checks out my boobs and then he moves on to take into account the rest of the figure…..and this happens every time. The commute to work situation is crazy, I am unable to drive and prefer getting smothered and shoved and all in the public transport. So when one of the kiddo guys offered me a lift back home, I resisted for a while, then give in, so 3-4 times, I have came back with him. I am tired of second guessing who is trying to get fresh with me and who isn’t. I am tired of trying to adjust of sending positive messages; it would be better and all to my brain. With December just round the corner, I wonder what the year has brought me; it was supposed to be the ‘year’ but that hasn’t happened. And when I share these frustrations, mostly work-related, these days with the close friends, I am often given a judgmental, terse reply that it can be worst and I have to make it work, and I shouldn’t trust the guys at work. Sorry but I felt that friends are supposed to listen and say comforting things, because I know that I have to make it work, we know the truth. I know that, have been making it work for the past 10 years, day in day out, despite all the personal problems, health issues and all, of feeling like a loser and yet going on, of selling myself off to potential employers as a brand, a bankable, dependable worker or a commodity. There are days when I feel like being stuck in a song, you know the kind where u r standing in the mid, frozen, paralyzed in time and everything around you, the people especially are moving fast. And you cant focus on any face, anyone, and you feel as if there is a glass door separating you from the world. And the freako, mysterious allergy attack this Saturday wasn’t helpful, having my wilted arms injected with anti allergens and pills to pop, I am sure that my body again is trying to give signals that i m in a situation where i am making way-too-many efforts to cope up/fit in.
