Moan, Groan, Go Away...

It's been a month now since i've officially joined the workforce, and i'm a tad sceptic. Why? Because everything's perfect..that's why.

The people are fun, my boss is great and I love what I do. Everyone wishes you a 'Good Morning' like they actually mean it, and they even wipe the sink for the next person once they're done washing their hands! Oh..and every Thursday is free lunch day.

So where do all those horror stories come in? You know..where your supervisor is a nightmare, the merciless office politics, and the fact that you have to drag yourself out of bed every morning?

So yeah..thanks to you lousy bunch of groaners, I can't love my job without the slightest uncertainty. I keep waiting for the axe to fall n' that bubble to burst. Thanks to you..i'm waiting for my boss to peel of his 'happy mask' and reveal his horns. I'm waiting for my colleagues to stop whistling while they work (yea, they whistle while they work), and for the office help to stop bringing me my daily cuppa with a smile.  

The thing about pessimism is that it's contagious. Contagious to the extent that it seeps into your sub-conscious and scares all those happy, satisfisfied thoughts right out of your cranium.

Quite the bummer really..coz' there actually are jolly people out there. If only you'd let them.

Cheers.

Things You Learn as a Salesperson

A week's worth of selling magazine subscriptions at GITEX (Gulf International Technology Exhibition) taught me the following (the hard way of course):

- Everyone is a potential customer : Who would've thought that 6th grade girls would be more than willing to fork up 20 bucks for a quarterly subscription to a tech magazine?

- Gimmicks work : Two girls wearing an afro wig and outrageous heart-shaped glasses attract more customers than a pair of ordinary-looking (comparatively) lasses. Fact.

- Know the language : A 50-year old arab man asking you to "Gimme keess" doesn't necessarily means he's trying to get fresh with you. Turns out he just wants a bag.

Material Girl turns 21

So when mum asked me the other day what i'd like for my 21st..I was stumped. "The new Sony Vaio in crocodile brown?" I thought out loud. "Or maybe a mall-wide gift-voucher? Ooh..or the new title from James Frey??"

But the voice with which I verbalized my musings seemed hollow; as if it was some other person expressing her thoughts and not me. Did I really not want what I said I did? What is it then that I really do want for my birthday?

This called for a good bout of speculation. So I made myself a cuppa and went up to my room; my speculation spot. What did I want? What did I really want?

I closed my eyes, attempted to shut out my conscious mind, and willed the voice at the back of my head to speak out. It's about time you had a go.

What I really want...is to get all my friends down to celebrate with me. And if could fly my brother and cousin down..that would be 'perfection'. I want those birthday calls at 12am and those well-wishing texts that last the rest of the day. I want for mum and dad to be proud of me, and for myself to be even more so. I want no enemies and I want more friends; not just the additions to my facebook list, but to my speed-dial.

I want everyone I love to have everything they've ever wanted. I want second chances for all those who wish they had them (myself included), and no regrets from here on out. And what I want most is a lifetime guarantee of satisfaction; not even eternal happiness...just plain old silly-smile-on-the-face type satisfaction.

Good Lord..am I slipping? Is this the same girl who could'nt take her eyes off those new leopard print pumps she'd sighted on display at NineWest? Hmm..turns out the best things in life really can't be bought.

To actually prefer chicken soup for the 'soul' over haute couture for the 'sole'...I really must be growing up.

Cheers.