13 December 2007

Remember to enjoy yourself...



"This is supposed to be such a happy time of year, so why are you
stressed? Stop putting so much pressure on yourself and remember to enjoy
yourself."

Stressed... I really am. Really!

Been so tense lately, unable to sleep well at night, waking up late in the day, not eating well, and thinking a lot about work, so much I even dream about it in my sleep. And worse was that in the past few days, I had one of the worst stomach flus I have ever had in my entire life...

A large reason for my stress is my internship that I'm doing... or better said, not doing at all. Officially I've been 'working' for two months, but only two weeks ago did they give me the means for me to login and do work. For so many weeks, when I had time, I couldn't do any work... and no suddenly there is this big assignment, but I really have no time to do it, because of my other job... I really feel like quiting the internship, but I'm not sure how to tell them, especially since I've not done any work at all. And it seems the assignment they gave me is crucial to their trial... which makes me really feel guilty for not being able to deliver what I promised...

...and then there's work. Besides the lack of appreciation, and being told I cannot go to the Christmas dinner if I want to bring a date who is not a "partner", there's just so many little things that need to be taken care of. I have four assistents, but two of them have not shown up for some time, and this is the time when I need them the most. I understand they have exams and are busy with their own lives, but the worst is when you write to them and ask them to come, but they don't even bother to reply... Which means I have to pick up the work I gave them to do, and also do the work that I have of my own... Stress!

The last few days have been so unbearable, because of a serious bout of diahrrhea. It all started last Friday, when I felt really unwell. I thought it was the flu, and so I drank lots of juice and ate lots of fruits and vegetable. But I think I had an overdosis of vitamins, and my body simply couldn't handle it, so it all came out. I really had to go to the bathroom six, seven times a day, and evertime, just masses of liquid comes out, it's frightening. Evens so, my stomach feels like it's about to explode, because it seems to be filled with gas. My friend was really kind to me and bought me some medicine, and even cooked me some fresh home-made soup... but it turns out vegetable makes my conditions a bit worse, and for the last two days, things that came out of me were... green!

Only today did I start to feel better... and I cheered myself up a bit by going to buy a train ticket for next Friday.

One more week, and I'm going to France for Christmas... something to look forward to. Something to take away this stress, and hopefully let me enjoy myself in "such a happy time of year".

10 December 2007

Christmas dinner at work


I have seen and heard many a ridiculous, and outright laughable, things at work. People politics, power and pompousness. But this is one has topped it all. At least for now.


About two weeks ago I was invited by 'The Management' (with capital 'T' and capital 'M') to a Christmas dinner. The purpose is to "express appreciation for all the good work" that has been done by the employees. Further, it will be "pleasant gathering [...] to strengthen collegial bonds", especially since getting to know your colleagues "on the homefront" is important "for a pleasant and balanced working environment". Of course.


I was enthused. Until I received the official invitation.


Apparently, it has been decided by 'The Management' that it will be chique event. The Management commandeth the dress code be "tenue de ville, gala, cocktail, tie-and-coat", everything under the motto "dress to impress" or "over the top". Already a turn-off for any (literally and metaphorically) red-blooded SOAS graduate indoctrinated to distrust petty little bourgeois exploits.


Then I realised you could bring a 'partner'. If someone I knew well was there, it probably would just be bearable. And perhaps, I thought to myself, it would not hurt to do a little personal PR and get to know my colleagues a little better. Besides, for all the work and time I put into my job, I deserve more than what I make.


So I rang the people in charge of organising the Christmas dinner, and told them I would like to attend, and bring a girlfriend along. I was asked whether there were any special dietary needs, and what our names were. I put down the phone, thinking I would be engaged on the evening of December 20th.


Moments later, I was called. "Is she the girlfriend, or a girlfriend?"

Curiously, I replied, honestly, "Just a girlfriend."


"I'm sorry, then you can't bring her. It has to be a partner."

I was surprised at the response. Since when are you only allowed to attend a Christmas dinner organised by your employer when the person you can bring along is a "partner"? "Sorry," I replied, expecting to feel the ridicule rise, "may I ask what the reason for that is?"


"It was a decision by The Management," was the explanation. As if the revelation of an untouchable supreme being is accepted and respected without questions. What is a partner anyways? "Someone with whom you have a deeply committed relationship". Ridicule peaked, and I did not know whether to laugh or cry.

Outrageous.

I listened to the secretary on the other side of the line explain the reasons why, and I felt she was not too happy about the decision either. A "deeply committed relationship"... the words echoed in my ears, like the annoying buzz of a mosquito while you are trying to sleep. I wondered to myself what that meant, as the image of a table seated with single-tons, surrounded by lavishly dressed and pompously made-up couples parading the room with glasses of champagne and polished silverware appeared before me...

Discriminatory.

Since when did my workplace decide who I can and cannot bring to a dinner party, the very purpose of which is to show appreciation for the hardwork I have been doing throughout these months? By what sacred decree is the hallowed definition of a "deeply committed relationship" stipulated? Are they going to probe into your private life? Are they going to ask how long you have been going out? How many times you have slept with one another? Or interrogate you on what the each person's role is in the relationship, just to decide whether you and your partner fall into the classification of what is "deeply committed"? Perhaps there will even be hired bouncers at the door trained for this purpose.

I regretted a little at my honesty, for if my friend and I were to just pretend that night we were (so-called) 'partners', no one would possibly know. But then again, why should I jeopardise my own personal integrity to play with their lovely little fabricated rules? I thought to myself the shocked and awed look on people's faces should I elegantly waltz in there hand in hand with a boyfriend.
The Establishment frowns upon all that is unconventional and challenging to the established rules and present order.

I
smiled. At the ridiculousness of the situation, at the absurdity of the justifications, at the firm determination not to go.

It was the kind of boyish smile that smiles itself when you know you are not stupid enough to submit yourself to such humiliation, when you know you are much better off without having to play along with their little fancy dressing-up games.

09 December 2007

Phone call



I wish there was someone close I could talk to, some so close I could see and touch while I talk to.

Just called my mum on the phone, our usual phone conversation on a Sunday afternoon. At first, when she asked how I was doing, I was I was pretty alright... but somehow, the voice of my mum drew the truth out of me...

I'm not doing all that great after all... at work, I feel like I do so much and spend so much time and effort on what I do, but nobody seems to appreciate it at all... and then there's this internship that I'm 'doing', even though I've not done any work in the last two months at all...

I told my mum how terrible and down I feel sometimes, even though before I called her I promised myself I shouldn't bother her with my problems, because that's just selfish dumping all my problems on her...

But my mum was so caring, so understanding, and her voice drew tears out of my eyes... "Don't worry, son", she said, "It'll all pass, and it's not as bad as you think..." I tried to say things without giving the impression that I was crying, but it's difficult...

I try not to think of the distance between us, I try not to think of the illness and the stresses that she has at her own work... but it's difficult...

"Go for a walk, go clear your mind," she said softly, "You'll feel much better. And don't forget to dress warmly, because it's cold out there. And you need to take good care of yourself, especially when there's no one there to care for you." It felt painful to hear those words, even though they were soothing and healing...

No one here, that is correct. But there is someone far, far away.

Dream II


Yet another dream, or perhaps you could call it a nightmare. What is the difference between a dream and nightmare? Yesterday's seems sweet and romantic, but it was haunting too... a deep reflection of my innermost fears and anxieties.

And so was today's. To be honest I can't remember what really happened now, but I do remember waking up from the intensity of the dream in the dark of the night, and being really struck and awed by it all. I remember repeated saying "I miss you, dad. I really miss you..."

Indeed, the dream was about my dad. Ever since the beginning of March, when dad left after a troubled and tense visit here, I haven't heard anything from him. I regylarly think of him, and wonder how and what he is doing. But there is absolutely no communication at all. Before, he would speak to me on the phone from time to time when I call, but for the last nine months, nothing... nothing.

Sometimes I have terrible dreams with him in it... sometimes it's scenes of him suffering unbearable pain, scenes of him dying in front of me, or scenes of him arguing and shouting with my mum... Never positive or sweet things or images, only these terrifying thoughts and pictures.

And so it was the same tonight.

I wake up from bed, after a number of hours already being awake, but feeling unable to face the world, and feeling completely exhausted and drained even though I've slept for much too much.

And it leaves me wondering... how is my dad doing?