Worchronicles

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Office. How I despise the place. I completely despise it. No, that's where I always wanted to go, earn my bread and butter and love my life. Blah. Not happening. There is work but no grub. No stipend, no love. Nothing. Hot interns/journalist in the other department. My department? Better left unsaid. Or fill this section once internship is over.


There is nothing to like about my office. The computers are slow. They require password. Five people share one computer. The internet is as fast as my ability to do trigonometry correctly. They use internet explorer. They don't have enough chairs to fit in all interns. The cafe stinks. The cafe owner thinks he is American. The vending machine does not give cardamom tea. They don't provide us with demerara for coffee. Coffee, yes, my new arch nemesis. Apparently, this nerd-power dude thinks I'm invisible. Almost sits on me and the coffee in my hand is spilled over my green bag. Yeah, the green bag, bitches. (Is this snob like or do I write more?)Infact, in last 48 hours, two people have dropped coffee on my bag at two different places and I fell out of my office chair twice. Talk about butterfingers.

Beyond this, I really don't care. I mean, I go to the place thrice a week. Do absolutely nothing over there. Come home, work, call people for bytes, go to location, talk to people. Yeah, that's about it. No glamour, no wearing Chanel pearls with turtle neck sweater and going to Paris (stretching snobbery, today) with boss.

Other than that, life is a bit like pasta. It's undercooked at some edges and burnt at the base. The sauce is not right yet the herbs make it just edible. It lacks the cheese, the one you can buy from Nature's Basket but if you're broke then you'd end up going to kirana dukan and picking up cheese cubes, grating them on top of that pasta. Yeah, that's how my life is progressing right now.

Frankly, I'd stretched my imagination the same way as this write up. I don't know, it's either the conditioning my college has done or that's how I am. I couldn't accept the people and differences growing in the first week. I couldn't tolerate the office culture (which is quite a disgrace still). Or maybe, as a whole, beyond imagining my future I never defined how my work place ought to function. You know, I see traces of Plato's joblessness in me, when I see how I envision things/situations to be. Even when I am working on a piece, say something on a market, I plan every bit of it way before I get out and start to work on a story. This means, I maintain pretty high (and usually impossible) standards of work. Coming to reality, this isn't the best way for things to proceed. I loose my patience by the end and things go haywire.

My mother says I have an aversion to things I'm forced to do. I despised going to school. I loathe attending college and she continued saying how I'd completely diss work. I never agreed with her citing my reasons to rant about school and college and now I'm at crossroads, where I'm doing what I supposedly wanted to and not enjoying it. Again, high standards of expectations. Time to loosen those strings and tune the life, I guess.





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