lips of an angel

Weekends…not sure to dread it or be glad that it’s time off from work so then my friends will be free to entertain my whims and fancies pent up since the last five days of the week when they were so busy while I was growing and plucking weed from my head at the same time. 

The delicate balance between too much work and too little work, where is the equilibrium? I remember I used to work so hard, not necessarily smart, over the five (productive) or six days (over productive) of the week. I worked so freaking hard that possibly it left me with quite little time to let my mind wander. Did I enjoy it? Well, back then, ask anyone, they’d tell you that I always look overworked and overstressed. 

I frown more than I smile, I sigh more than I breathe…I leave for work when the sun rise and almost always leave for home after sun rise. When things at work became easier and smoother, I could leave work around 6.00pm when the sun is about to set. I remember being photophobic for a while as I drive out of the basement car park…so not used to driving home in broad daylight. When my mother saw me showing up at our porch around 6.30pm, she was concerned that I might have been fired, that’s why I am home early at last. 

On hindsight, I miss those days. The exhilaration and anticipation that SAP will spring new problems and surprises each day made going to work so much more fun and yet resentful. Some days were just the Eureka days when you were finally enlightened on the way we work. Some days were just the Daniel Powter Bad Day song themed, when everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong and whatever that was always working fine also decided to jump onto the wrong bandwagon.

I always thought that we were the ultimate dream team…we had very nice managers and bosses, the kind who we sometimes manage and boss them ourselves I had one manager who would always sneak up behind my seat with a plastic ruler in his hand and his first remark would always be, “Wah, so free ahh? No work to do is it?”. There was once he was busy picking on me and I retorted. Just as I retorted, he quipped while thunder struck outside the window. My first words were, “Disambar petir!”. Everyone laughed and from then on, whenever I do something silly that will surely get me into trouble, my colleagues would always quip the “Disambar petir” to remind me to repent. 

My other manager was a very prim and proper 70’s child. I was out to sit next to him because my other manager thought that since I am such a dunce most of the time, I should be able to weather the cold of having to sit next to the boss. As usual, I whined and grumbled all the way while moving my belongings to face my fate. But it turned out well. We had our quality times and the rest were usually bewitched when I seemed to know more about him than the rest. I have learnt much just from observing him and sometimes I decided to emulate his style of approach. There was one instance that remained close to my heart. Our annual dinner and dance was around the corner. The theme of that year was Rock. Curious, I asked who or how he was going to dress to the event. He said he will come as a band member of this famous rock band in 70’s. He hummed a song to hint the name of the band to me. Five minutes later, I was as blur as 5 minutes ago…then he sang a few lines of that song he hummed. I was even more confused. Finally he gave up and told me the name of the band and honestly today, don’t ask me why but the name still failed to stick in my head

I was also very fortunate to have a strong team to back me when I falter. I am gungho most of the time, like a bat in the cave, but sometimes, I am also not the sharpest knife in the drawer. My team members are mostly in my age group…so there were no issues talking about high school days or what we used to have back in the olden days like cartoons, gadgets, the “in” things back then…practically anything that surrounded us during our growing up years. 

So that’s how I was labeled “Drama Queen” and also elected as the bridal shower organizing chairwoman since 2007 was the year almost all of my single female colleagues decided to ring their wedding bells. It was fun and perhaps that’s why today I have this inclination that I might flourish in the wedding planner business.

I am not sure if I missed being a workaholic, but I certainly missed being my old self, always so driven and full of energy to get things done regardless. Well, sometimes it could be my way or the highway which drove throngs of people up the wall. But hey, it’s all in the name of getting work done.

Sigh, sometimes it’s just so hard to be me and please me at the same time…