Crabs and Orchids - 1

You remember those notebooks that need to be refilled once you’ve used it up for a certain subject? Because you’re too lazy to bring a bunch of them, you just buy the one that can be clipped together. At times it becomes fed up not because of the crappy handwriting but because of your nonsense doodles that seemed like art pieces at that time. In your eyes, that is. Or you already know they’re ugly but who cares anyways. It’s not there to be judged, but to let you exclaim silently of thoughts you kept in, or just simply to kill your boredom.

Can’t remember my childhood clearly, no, I actually do, just the unwanted ones though. I remember doodling images of cartoonish crab all over my notes, but not on the books. Even dog-ears are a no-no. it’s a personal pet peeve and it makes me want to straighten the pages of those who carelessly do it. It’s ironic knowing how I can be careless too, just not in front of others. I’ve also had ideations of how it’ll all end, even made it possible to try doing some of those thoughts myself, but I just end up recovering physically. As if my own body’s making fun of my existence by making sure that I’ll always be awake every single day.

Bet you kept on scraping parts of your desk using your pen or pencil too. Or buying a bread despite having a lunch made by your family because your other friends are doing so. Why would you choose to be out of the loop? I’m used to that though. Can’t say I’m that loyal to friends as what they keep on mentioning, more like, I just don’t want to get involved so I’d rather keep my mouth shut from whatever things I’ve heard. It’s not like finding out that she’s got a crush on her deskmate, or that he’s the one who did the prank on the biology teacher are of essence for the world.

So in reality, I was always in solitude inside my head, despite being surrounded by the nosy and noisy people. Most of the time I cannot relate anyways to whatever they were talking about and I just nod my head and smile in response as if I was actually listening, which I am, just not in the same pace as how much they speak.

If that was a drama I’d probably be that emo kid at the back of the class who tend to be the outcast.

At times I can’t breathe, even now that I’m a working adult. In the minds of others who easily talks down on me or tell me what to do I might be something like a pushover, for those who see just the outcome of the works I’m probably a good worker and could achieve more. Honestly, I’d rather not see their faces anymore. Thus, the best solution is dying, isn’t it? But that’s the thing, I can’t seem to die by suicide. Maybe I should make it look like an accident, so it’ll not bother others, right?

It kind of reminds me of the days when you’re busy with work and then someone knocks in the door of your office one after another, but you can’t show the irritation because it’s still part of work, you know? And then when you work properly, they end up piling it all on you, because they think you can work on it well. Because that’s how you do things.

What am I even rambling about.

Well, where I am at the moment is a place that I didn’t ask to be in, on the trail for some mountain trekking because the head in our department thinks it’s the best activity for teambuilding. Perhaps, if we’re not all running out of breath or the weather here is actually stable, which is not possible in a rainforest.

Quite sure when this is all over they’ll think it’s been a waste of time but they’ll still laugh and eat heartily along with the chief every time he’ll open about such adventure. Butter him up for a peaceful workplace and possibilities of not getting on his bad side because that would mean making of coffee for all and bringing them to the meeting room with all the rushed copies of documents needed for the discussion on top of the fact that you’ll suddenly be the one to state your opinion on statistics that you have not even reviewed.

Even a part-timer like me got pulled into doing this, imagine the feeling of the newbies, wanting to get towards the good grace of the bosses but don’t have any idea that they exist now for mere entertainment and nothing more even if they’re talented enough to replace some of the longer full-time employees. Being on probationary sure is tough with all the requirements. Being assigned in the department means to get along well with others.

It's the same feeling as when you’re working on a rushed report and your PowerPoint presentation suddenly hanged up, your laptop lagged, and you almost threw it to the floor because you’re in a hurry, you’re hungry, and your coworkers and heads are like hyenas waiting to barge in and plop another batch of work documents on your desk.

Yes.

Life at it’s finest, isn’t it?