Tuesday, August 16, 2005
a year and a week old
I procrastinated writing this entry for a week. 9 August 2005 (ironically National Day) was my first year anniversary of working life, and of working in this organisation.
It's a freaky feeling, truth be told, to have reached the one year mark here.
I remember the first time I felt like resigning. It was November last year and being the rookie in the Department, I was tasked with the crappiest job. Lets just say it involved getting yelled, screamed, censured and threatened by people every single day.
But that wasn't the last straw. The last straw broke the camel's back that fateful November day when a Higher-Up insuinated that I mishandled the situation (that I was so rudely thrust into, I might add) and hence indirectly contributed to the mega-proportion that the mini crisis had exploded to.
Now was I indignant! I believe, till this day, that I handled it to the best of my abilities. Even my crappy ex-boss agreed. The matter was flawed at a fundamental level, so there is little that may be done to alleviate the situation. But anyway, I digress.
So I went home that day after the daily dose bombardment and topped off with that insult (I have strong work pride - don't mess with that). And I cried. As much as I hate to admit it, I cried. Shed tears of indignance, of rage and of self-pity.
Lets put the whole situation in context. There I was, fresh out of Uni and 4 months into the job, and I was getting slammed for a far-from-wise decision that the Higher-Ups made eons ago?
And in the first place, I didn't (and still don't) fancy the job or the organisation much. It just happened, I guess - me working here. Plus I am much convinced that I am severly underpaid. So how's that for staff morale to begin with?
So I sobbed. My mum was really traumatised by this and all her maternal instincts screamed for action. As she comforted me, she told me it's alright if I want to quit and that perhaps this just isn't the job for me. I nearly smiled. She was so sweet. Until she said:
"Tomorrow you go tell your boss that your mother doesn't think this job suits you and you want to quit."
How embarrassing is that! It was at that very instant that I decided not to quit.
I did however start actively looking for greener pastures. For the last 8 months I've been flipping ST Recruit every Saturday. I'm a tad picky, I confess (no point jumping outta the frying pan and into the fire, I say) and I've had a few near hits, but still no homerun.
But I'll keep looking. That much I can promise myself.
// posted by the commentator @ 3:49 pm 
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