it's 5 minutes after 1am, and my head is literally throbbing.
mondays are usually long and dreary, so i wasn't expecting this one to be any different. came in to work as usual, and skipped lunch just for the sake of it (i wasn't that hungry, really... ok. i lie. i didn't want to have yet another meal on my own and look just down right pathetic) went over to the finance department only to find out that my cheque hasn't been cleared, and i'll have to wait another two weeks before i get paid at all. that made my stomach twist into this uncomfortable knot. here i am, desperately broke and short of cash. AND working my ass off 10 hours a day. I HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN PAID A SINGLE CENT.
i have to stop over analyzing on the little facts that make me hate going to work so, so, so much. it's either the solitary lunches, the awkward pauses in between making conversation with people who don't give a rat's ass that i even exist, or the condescending tone the certain elitist few adopt when talking to me.
maybe it's just me being paranoid. i've tried being strong, tried not to care, tried to just go through the day without feeling like i'm about to burst into tears at any given minute. because i want to do this, and i know it in my heart that i can do it... but it's so hard.
IT IS SO BLOODY HARD TRYING TO LOVE THIS JOB WHEN I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING AND DREAD HAVING TO GO TO WORK WHERE ALMOST EVERYONE IS JUST FUCKING COLD.
so there i was, just saying out my two cents' worth and the art director i work with starts getting all pissy and snappish. i totally understand him having 100% control in terms of art direction but i thought i was entitled to my own opinions as well! so i said i was sorry, and still he went on acting like i had committed the biggest sin of all (bruising his god forsaken ego) and started throwing a tantrum (crushing the poster we had worked on, which he had just printed and letting out a flurry of anger tinged chinky words he knew i wouldn't understand) - and went on to tell me, "Don't take it personally!" I'm like, wtf? Here you are acting like a child, and you have the goddamn bloody nerve to tell me to NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY?
WELL FUCK YOU.
of course all this anger came only after i rushed to the toilet, locked myself in a cubicle and cried like it was the end of the world.
i know. i let my weakness get the best of me - i'm such a cry baby. i cry at every open opportunity there is.
i cried when i was in 8tv, because i hated being in constant competition with amri.
i cried when i was in krakatua, because i was sticking out like a sore thumb and was forced to deal with having lunch alone every single day.
i cried when i was in KLue because i felt i was being taken for granted, and heaved with all the petty things other people couldn't be bothered to do.
and God knows the bucketful of tears i cried while i was in mmu.
i used to think i was strong, that i could do this. i could afford to be different than others, that i could banish that misconception about how all tudung girls are kuno, kampung and stupid - and i've been doing it so well for the past 22 years, but why is it getting harder now? why do i feel like i'm starting to lose my ground? that maybe i should just let go and be CONTENT with the fact that
I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE THAT DIFFERENT ANYMORE.
for all the times i got slagged off in school for being the only malay in a uniform unit condensed with a majority of chinkies, and in mmu where i had to struggle to not completely blend into the group of "tak kisah, semue pun takpe" malays whom didn't even get to graduate on time,
i was not prepared for this.
i was not prepared.
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