07/05/2020

Spending more hours on work has officially taken its toll on me. I’m overly sensitive with everything around me and under-rested. Not only am I easily irritable, I take offence at every. single. thing. There’s only so much that I can handle at one go and within the specified time frame - and whoever’s expectant that I can pepper my magic on its speedy completion would be gravely disappointed to know that sorry, no can do. I’m only one with a pair of hands. I’m not an octopus who’s able to multitask with eight legs.

Don’t remind me of my emotions about spending the weekend in the office either - that has the full capacity of making me explode into expletives like an active volcano (and I’d like to avoid that at all costs).

I’m someone who believes that work and life should be separated with clear boundaries around it. With the way things are happening now, the boundaries are blurred to the point where I feel like I have no life whatsoever: spend x number of hours in the workplace and another y number of time completing those unfinished paperwork at home before the begrudging return on the weekends to shake a leg on errands (as if we’re all stoic robots who don’t need some time out to recharge). It’s working, though; it’s shaped me into an emotionless yet frustrated homo sapien who suffers from Sunday blues. Maybe I’ll have to bottle up my feelings towards everything - like I once did - in exchange for the ability to feign ignorance. And maybe that’ll prevent me from snapping at even the littlest thing or breaking down in exhaustion.

Back in those ancient days, trips to the malls and away from the workplace/campus were able to melt the work stress, not only because of the temptation to shop until I drop but more like I’m able to chill with a cup of coffee and zone out. Yet this method no longer works on me. The more time I spend in coffeehouses, the more uptight I feel.

A part of me wishes for a different situation where I’m able to finally grasp some whiff of happiness and relaxation - and possibly in the arms of someone trustworthy where I feel at home and safe. But I’m a practical child. I’m aware that all of these aren’t doable in real life. Things happen for a reason and what that reason is, we won’t know.

We found ourselves off-track somewhere in the middle of the little city centre, trying to search for a way out of the place yet being lost made me comfortable. I could momentarily forget about everything bothering me, like I didn’t want to face the tribulations of the world.

It could be an illustration of how I’ve lost the power to relax.