These days, nothing in the world is for free. Let's not even talk about products, there's even a price to pay for hearing. So yeah, naturally, these days, I am all about paying the price. Everything has a tag on it.
It all started with the news that my son needed surgery. I walked into the doctor's office with concerns that his speech wasn't as developed compared to other kids his age, and I came out with a "glue ear" diagnose and a piece of white paper that said he was scheduled for surgery on Thursday that same week.
I came out of the doctor's office with a blank stare, completely bewildered. How did it get to this? - I asked myself at the time.
Sure - it was only "minor" surgery. But every mother would concur that nothing is minor when it comes to our kids. The thought of my boy being unconscious and operated on with an IV stuck into his little hand in a scary operating room was just too much for me to bear. And of course, being the overdramatic person that I was, I couldn't hold the tears back at all.
Just before the operation, the nurses rolled his bed into the operating room and my son held on to my hand for dear life. He was so scared that I couldn't see color in his face at all. I'm sure we traumatized the crap out of that poor little kid. But it had to be done, what choice did we have? He woke up from surgery kicking, screaming, demanding that we take out the IV, and he ended up taking it out himself with blood splattered all over the place. (I know, eww right?)
This is what we had to bear: trauma, cost, 2 weeks of being away from home, the expenses of being in a foreign country, exhaustion, and additional costs of changing our tickets (which were promo tickets!).
But when weighed with what we got in return: my son's hearing back and precious time with both my kids while we were stuck in Singapore waiting for my son to recover post surgery. Fourteen priceless days with both my son and daughter, uninterrupted by work or people or television or anything!
Now if that's not well worth it, I don't know what is...
Friday, June 26, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
It Takes Shock Therapy to Open Your Eyes...
When my husband came home from work the other day, I dropped everything I was doing to run to the door and greet him with a long lingering hug as soon as he stepped foot out of the car. Call me a drama queen if you’d like, but I actually had tears welling up my eyes and I felt lucky he was alive.
No, he wasn't recently in any car accident nor did he go through any near death experiences of any kind. He just went to work, went to meetings with clients, replied a few dozen emails or so and at the end of the day, drove home – all the normal routine (and perhaps rather mundane) things.
What wasn't normal was the fact that someone called our house telling our poor housekeeper that he had been in a terrible car accident and was in critical condition at the nearest hospital. In tears and completely terrified, our housekeeper called my mother-in-law, who then called and told me.
Sure, I had heard of similar scams happening around our circle of friends. They call, they say our loved one is dying then they make a second call asking for money. So logically I was convinced it was a scam almost immediately. Somehow though, in the back of my head, I kept thinking "What if it's true?" Matters became worse when I kept getting my husband's voicemail at every attempt of calling his cell phone.
Figuring the only way to find out was to see for myself, I left the office, rushed to take a cab to the hospital, and was there in less than ten minutes. I soon found out that my initial instinct was correct - it was just a scam. And no, the con artist did not ask for money - which made the scam seem rather odd and pointless. But anyway...
On my way out of the hospital -where the nurses there told me this sort of thing happened all the time - I finally managed to get through to my husband. Although I knew it was a scam, I still felt unbelievably relieved that he was unharmed, unscathed, and even smirking at me in response to my so-called overreaction. I couldn't stop the inner drama queen in me, I bawled my eyes out as soon as I heard him say "hello".
People generally say that everything happens for a reason. So perhaps this odd incident happened to wake me up and tell me that I haven't been appreciating my husband enough? Was it a cosmic attempt to remind me not to take him for granted? And perhaps for me to subsequently tell others about it so they could learn the same lesson I did?
Whatever the reason, I find myself now strangely thanking the person who tried to scam us. Not deeply thanking him of course, because well, who am I kidding, at the end of the day he still gave me an anxiety attack and I'm not a saint so it’s not that easy for me to entirely forgive and forget. But beyond that, I did learn something out of the whole fiasco.
Sometimes it takes a bit of drama in life to wake you up, and while I used to be more of a "the glass is half empty" kind of person, I can now tell myself that even though it's half empty, but at least it's not entirely empty. There is still half a glass worth drinking.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Waiting... and waiting... and waiting...
So, I was standing in line at the Bank (after pay day, obviously) and I noticed that the line was basically shaped like an 'M'. I stood there patiently waiting for my turn for at least 45 minutes, and finally when it was my turn, the teller put up a 'closed' sign and just before she left, she asked me to move to the next line. To cut the long story short, I finally made my transaction after being at the (stupid) bank for around 1 hour and 20 minutes. Time wasted here: 1 hour and 5 minutes.
When I got back to my car, I had to wait for the gate to exit the parking lot to open, which took forever because for some reason, the gate was stuck. Time wasted here: 10 minutes.
As I got out of the lot, I entered a traffic jam that prolonged by journey to the office by about half an hour, causing me to be a total of 3 hours late to get to the office, while I had only asked permission to leave the office for an hour to get all the bank stuff settled. Time wasted here: 30 minutes.
This - all the agonizing waiting - is not the end of my story, my friends. At around 3pm, I was supposed to have a meeting with this agency, and while I managed (for once) to not be late and arrive at the venue at exactly 3pm, the agency was late because they had a flat tire on the way to meet me, so I had to wait for around 40 minutes until they finally showed up. Then, as they were going to present their concept to me, they had a problem with their laptop, so again, I had to wait. Time wasted here: 50 minutes.
On the way back to the office, traffic was fantastic and I was so happy to be able to arrive back before 6. I rushed to clear a few emails and left by just before 7, and... was greeted by none other than an evening rush of traffic. Home, which is essentially 20 minutes from the office, became 45 minutes away. Time wasted here: 25 minutes.
Dinner was OK, but then after dinner and after playtime with the kids, I wanted to log on to my computer to check Twitter and reply some personal emails and all of a sudden the wi-fi was off. I called the internet provider and got the automatic answering machine, and was told to... wait for it... WAIT! Imagine that... I waited for what seemed like ages, and finally a man answered and said I would have to wait while the technician checked. Internet was back on at around 11pm - which was about half an hour after I called. Time wasted here: 20 minutes.
Look, I know that patience is supposedly a virtue. But see, I wasted a total of 3 hours and 15 minutes that day, just waiting around aimlessly, when I could have been doing so many other things more useful in my life.
In 3 hours and 15 minutes, I could have read a book with my kids and played with them, I could have written another 1,000 to 2,000 words for my novel, I could have replied 100 emails at the office, I could have proof read at least 10 articles for the magazine I work for, I could have watched an entire movie, and I could have even watched 9 episodes of my favorite sitcom! Oh, my fave sitcom these days is How I Met Your Mother, by the way.
I just don't get it. On a daily basis, we waste so much precious time that we never get back, and at the end of the day, what do we get out of it? Nothing more than what we initially needed anyway. And I think about all the times I wished there were more than 24 hours in a day... I mean, if we saved all the time wasting, we'd have those extra hours we need, don't you think?
Maybe it's just me, because I'm pissed at all these people who have made me wait. But tell me, is it so wrong to want things to run smoothly, glitch-less and hiccup-less so we can all move along faster in life?
When I got back to my car, I had to wait for the gate to exit the parking lot to open, which took forever because for some reason, the gate was stuck. Time wasted here: 10 minutes.
As I got out of the lot, I entered a traffic jam that prolonged by journey to the office by about half an hour, causing me to be a total of 3 hours late to get to the office, while I had only asked permission to leave the office for an hour to get all the bank stuff settled. Time wasted here: 30 minutes.
This - all the agonizing waiting - is not the end of my story, my friends. At around 3pm, I was supposed to have a meeting with this agency, and while I managed (for once) to not be late and arrive at the venue at exactly 3pm, the agency was late because they had a flat tire on the way to meet me, so I had to wait for around 40 minutes until they finally showed up. Then, as they were going to present their concept to me, they had a problem with their laptop, so again, I had to wait. Time wasted here: 50 minutes.
On the way back to the office, traffic was fantastic and I was so happy to be able to arrive back before 6. I rushed to clear a few emails and left by just before 7, and... was greeted by none other than an evening rush of traffic. Home, which is essentially 20 minutes from the office, became 45 minutes away. Time wasted here: 25 minutes.
Dinner was OK, but then after dinner and after playtime with the kids, I wanted to log on to my computer to check Twitter and reply some personal emails and all of a sudden the wi-fi was off. I called the internet provider and got the automatic answering machine, and was told to... wait for it... WAIT! Imagine that... I waited for what seemed like ages, and finally a man answered and said I would have to wait while the technician checked. Internet was back on at around 11pm - which was about half an hour after I called. Time wasted here: 20 minutes.
Look, I know that patience is supposedly a virtue. But see, I wasted a total of 3 hours and 15 minutes that day, just waiting around aimlessly, when I could have been doing so many other things more useful in my life.
In 3 hours and 15 minutes, I could have read a book with my kids and played with them, I could have written another 1,000 to 2,000 words for my novel, I could have replied 100 emails at the office, I could have proof read at least 10 articles for the magazine I work for, I could have watched an entire movie, and I could have even watched 9 episodes of my favorite sitcom! Oh, my fave sitcom these days is How I Met Your Mother, by the way.
I just don't get it. On a daily basis, we waste so much precious time that we never get back, and at the end of the day, what do we get out of it? Nothing more than what we initially needed anyway. And I think about all the times I wished there were more than 24 hours in a day... I mean, if we saved all the time wasting, we'd have those extra hours we need, don't you think?
Maybe it's just me, because I'm pissed at all these people who have made me wait. But tell me, is it so wrong to want things to run smoothly, glitch-less and hiccup-less so we can all move along faster in life?
Friday, May 1, 2009
For The Love of Gossip
Did your mother ever tell you it wasn't nice to gossip about people? Mine did. A lot. She used to tell me that it wasn't nice to talk about people behind their backs. She said it was disrespectful, especially if what we were saying about them were not even necessarily true. Perhaps not a lie, but more like "speculation" or "assumptions".
The reason for that little talking-to we had was because she overheard me on the phone with my friend 'R', talking about how 'A' and 'C' left together from a party we all went to the night before, and we met them again in the morning at McDonald's wearing the same clothes they were in. Ohhh... that was sweet gossip material indeed.
Fast forward a 'few' years later - well ok, maybe not really a few.. more like fifteen.. - guess what? I'm still gossiping. Or rather, looking forward to gossip.
Here's how gossip surrounds my life: I get up and go to work in the morning, and I arrive at work at 08.30 (if my HR is reading this, then yes, I get there at 08.30. If she's not reading this, then actually, I arrive at 09.00. Sometimes 09.15. Oh all right, fine, I admit it - sometimes it's 09.30!) and before I start turning on my computer and checking my emails for oh-so-important emails from people, I sit back in my chair with my mug of coffee and wait for exactly 2 minutes. 2 minutes later, on the dot, my two colleagues come up to me with gossip for the day. "Did you hear what happened to 'K' from accounting? Her boyfriend totally dumped her for a model!" or "OMG, 'L' just had a fight with 'C' and cried in the ladies room for two hours!" -- you get the picture, right?
Then, throughout the day, I'd receive numerous phone calls, asking about certain work related things, but then ending up with at least one or two more gossip topics. By the end of the day when I am ready to go home but not quite eager to get stuck in traffic, I open up perezhilton.com to check out the latest celeb gossip. Oh, and I'm signed up for the newsletters too.
On weekends, my husband and I love going to bookstores, where the kids would get 1 book each that they like, he'd get some magazines and books, and I would grab the latest People magazine along with some fiction novels (because I can't be bothered reading books that don't have conversations in them).
And it's not just me! Every single time I am at the bookstore, I hover around the magazine rack along with hundreds of other women, all practically pushing and shoving trying to grab hold of OK or Life & Style or Star or whatever gossip magazine is available. And believe me, the ones that sell the most are the one with headlines like, "Co-star Love Triangle" or "She left him" or "She Kicked Him Out". It's always the relationship gossips that sell best.
What is our fascination with gossip? Why is there always that need to know someone else's business and then re-tell it to someone else? Why is it that we enjoy it so much that we dedicate valueable time in our lives that we can never get back, just to talk about things that might not even be true? Even when you know for sure it's not true, there is this urge to read or talk about it anyway!
Maybe it's because some of us live mundane and uneventful lives. We live monotonously and so we feel the need to live vicarously through others. Maybe it's because it's the only way we can talk to other people constantly. Like, if we didn't have gossip, our conversations over lunch or dinner with friends would probably only be enough to last us through appetizers. What else would we talk about during the main course? Or maybe, just maybe, it's because we actually care about the people we are talking about. Maybe. Highly unlikely, but well, maybe.
For those of you that feel bad for constantly being obsessed with gossip, fear not, you are not alone. There is a whole bunch of people out there (and here, e.g. yours truly) that cannot for the life of them, live with out gossip. I, for one, have already made it a point to tell my mother that if she is expecting me to stop gossiping (or hearing it, or looking for it) - it's never going to happen in this lifetime. It's just part of who I am.
I do constantly wonder why I do it though. Honestly. Don't you?
The reason for that little talking-to we had was because she overheard me on the phone with my friend 'R', talking about how 'A' and 'C' left together from a party we all went to the night before, and we met them again in the morning at McDonald's wearing the same clothes they were in. Ohhh... that was sweet gossip material indeed.
Fast forward a 'few' years later - well ok, maybe not really a few.. more like fifteen.. - guess what? I'm still gossiping. Or rather, looking forward to gossip.
Here's how gossip surrounds my life: I get up and go to work in the morning, and I arrive at work at 08.30 (if my HR is reading this, then yes, I get there at 08.30. If she's not reading this, then actually, I arrive at 09.00. Sometimes 09.15. Oh all right, fine, I admit it - sometimes it's 09.30!) and before I start turning on my computer and checking my emails for oh-so-important emails from people, I sit back in my chair with my mug of coffee and wait for exactly 2 minutes. 2 minutes later, on the dot, my two colleagues come up to me with gossip for the day. "Did you hear what happened to 'K' from accounting? Her boyfriend totally dumped her for a model!" or "OMG, 'L' just had a fight with 'C' and cried in the ladies room for two hours!" -- you get the picture, right?
Then, throughout the day, I'd receive numerous phone calls, asking about certain work related things, but then ending up with at least one or two more gossip topics. By the end of the day when I am ready to go home but not quite eager to get stuck in traffic, I open up perezhilton.com to check out the latest celeb gossip. Oh, and I'm signed up for the newsletters too.
On weekends, my husband and I love going to bookstores, where the kids would get 1 book each that they like, he'd get some magazines and books, and I would grab the latest People magazine along with some fiction novels (because I can't be bothered reading books that don't have conversations in them).
And it's not just me! Every single time I am at the bookstore, I hover around the magazine rack along with hundreds of other women, all practically pushing and shoving trying to grab hold of OK or Life & Style or Star or whatever gossip magazine is available. And believe me, the ones that sell the most are the one with headlines like, "Co-star Love Triangle" or "She left him" or "She Kicked Him Out". It's always the relationship gossips that sell best.
What is our fascination with gossip? Why is there always that need to know someone else's business and then re-tell it to someone else? Why is it that we enjoy it so much that we dedicate valueable time in our lives that we can never get back, just to talk about things that might not even be true? Even when you know for sure it's not true, there is this urge to read or talk about it anyway!
Maybe it's because some of us live mundane and uneventful lives. We live monotonously and so we feel the need to live vicarously through others. Maybe it's because it's the only way we can talk to other people constantly. Like, if we didn't have gossip, our conversations over lunch or dinner with friends would probably only be enough to last us through appetizers. What else would we talk about during the main course? Or maybe, just maybe, it's because we actually care about the people we are talking about. Maybe. Highly unlikely, but well, maybe.
For those of you that feel bad for constantly being obsessed with gossip, fear not, you are not alone. There is a whole bunch of people out there (and here, e.g. yours truly) that cannot for the life of them, live with out gossip. I, for one, have already made it a point to tell my mother that if she is expecting me to stop gossiping (or hearing it, or looking for it) - it's never going to happen in this lifetime. It's just part of who I am.
I do constantly wonder why I do it though. Honestly. Don't you?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Copy Cat
I was at dinner with a few friends, and in the course of our conversation, I noticed that one of my friends was carrying a new handbag. A new ridiculously and over the top expensive handbag. I kicked one of my other friends (can we call her A? If I use her real name, she could totally beat the crap out of me) and rolled my eyes towards the bag - a code for her to follow. She followed my directions and gasped at the bag: one she had wanted for weeks but simply could not bring her heart to go out and buy on account of the recession and all. It didn't seem like wise spending (or something like that).
The other girls began to notice, so we then went into our usual "oh I just looovvveee your bag!" and "ohmigod your bag would look so great with that red dress you have!" talk, you know, how we girls always talk, and in the stereotype borderline shrieking manner too.
The owner of the new flashy handbag, let's call her C (so she doesn't kill me - which she would if I revealed her real name), blushed a bit at the hysteria surrounding her bag, and quickly justified that her husband had bought it for her for their anniversary the week before. Funny, we had dinner in April. Her anniversary is in June. But anyway... if that was her story, then that was her story - I kept my mouth shut.
A few days later, I met one of the girls again (let's call her B) by chance at a mall while I was shopping for some shoes for my son (actually, that was my excuse to my husband. I actually went shoes shopping for me). B, evidently had done some shopping herself because to my complete and utter shock, she was carrying the exact same bag C had...! I knew it was brand new because that night during dinner, B basically said that she would kill to have the same bag, and spent the entire night staring at the stupid bag while the rest of us were busy discussing how Kris Allen from American Idol was better at the song choice and arrangements but Danny Gokey was better vocally.
Anyway, I thought to myself, OK, so she liked the bag and bought it too. Whatever. So I moved on and went back to my shopping. About ten minutes later, my Blackberry started Ping-ing, and I had gotten a BBM (Blackberry Message) from D - this friend of mine who lives in Singapore. Her message was this: OMG! Remember that girl I was telling u abt that keeps copying d way I dress & buying d same stuff I do? She came 2 d office 2day wearing the exact same dress I wore ysterday!!
I am rarely speechless. As you can see from various posts, I seem to have an opinion about everything - be it important or extremely lame and not even worth mentioning. And after reading the BBM I got, I was speechless. For exactly 7 minutes.
The other girls began to notice, so we then went into our usual "oh I just looovvveee your bag!" and "ohmigod your bag would look so great with that red dress you have!" talk, you know, how we girls always talk, and in the stereotype borderline shrieking manner too.
The owner of the new flashy handbag, let's call her C (so she doesn't kill me - which she would if I revealed her real name), blushed a bit at the hysteria surrounding her bag, and quickly justified that her husband had bought it for her for their anniversary the week before. Funny, we had dinner in April. Her anniversary is in June. But anyway... if that was her story, then that was her story - I kept my mouth shut.
A few days later, I met one of the girls again (let's call her B) by chance at a mall while I was shopping for some shoes for my son (actually, that was my excuse to my husband. I actually went shoes shopping for me). B, evidently had done some shopping herself because to my complete and utter shock, she was carrying the exact same bag C had...! I knew it was brand new because that night during dinner, B basically said that she would kill to have the same bag, and spent the entire night staring at the stupid bag while the rest of us were busy discussing how Kris Allen from American Idol was better at the song choice and arrangements but Danny Gokey was better vocally.
Anyway, I thought to myself, OK, so she liked the bag and bought it too. Whatever. So I moved on and went back to my shopping. About ten minutes later, my Blackberry started Ping-ing, and I had gotten a BBM (Blackberry Message) from D - this friend of mine who lives in Singapore. Her message was this: OMG! Remember that girl I was telling u abt that keeps copying d way I dress & buying d same stuff I do? She came 2 d office 2day wearing the exact same dress I wore ysterday!!
I am rarely speechless. As you can see from various posts, I seem to have an opinion about everything - be it important or extremely lame and not even worth mentioning. And after reading the BBM I got, I was speechless. For exactly 7 minutes.
The familiarity of what she said, and what I had seen earlier with B reminded me of a friend I used to have who would copy everything I wore too. If I came in with a new bag on Monday, she'd wear one on Tuesday. If I had new shoes on Friday, you'd better believe she'd be in the office on Monday bright and early sporting the exact same ones.
It was (and is) simply mind-boggling. Why do these people feel the need to copy others? What exactly was wrong with just being themselves? Having taste of their own? Having their own flare, style and preference? And I'm not talking about things like us normal people copying what celebs wear in the magazines and stuff, I am referring to these total copy cats who follow you obsessively, nearly being 'Single White Female' material!
Sure, sure, we should probably be somewhat proud that we are apparently setting trends of some sort. But really, how is anyone supposed to be original, authentic, and strikingly different anymore if in two seconds, you have copy cats following your exact wardrobe?
A Twitter friend once tweeted that people should be happy with who they are and stop trying to be someone else. He too, like me, questioned what was wrong with just being yourself? Seriously, why can't we all just be who we really are?
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Easy job? Yeah, right.
(Warning: This message is probably more suitable for high school and college kids. If you're older, you can still read and add comments where you feel necessary. If you're older but are in denial, well, who am I to judge, read on!! Haha)
Last Wednesday, this intern started working at our office.
He came into my office, all shy and seemingly innocent. He wore what was probably his nicest shirt, cotton pants and formal shoes, and shook my hand with a smile. His smile was sincere, I could tell.
After our brief shaking of hands, I led him to the room where three of my staff worked, introduced him as the new intern, and left him in their care. I laughed a bit as I walked away, thinking about that poor kid who had no idea what he was getting into. But if he was anything like me, he would walk away at the end of his internship with his head held high, knowing he was ready to face anything.
I went back and forth to that room to monitor how he was doing, and I couldn't help but feel reminiscent of my own early working days. Geez, that was a heck of a long time ago!
I started working when I was 19, almost 20. I actually celebrated my 20th birthday on the job. Why did I start so early? Easy answer, I dropped out of college. Was it a choice? Definitely not. I just couldn't afford it anymore, and couldn't get student loans. Sad right? Yeah, tell me about it. But before you go all teary eyed and feel sorry that I don't have a Bachelor degree like everyone else (well, maybe not everyone) - don't be. I am happy I started working early. By the time my friends had finished college and just started working, I was already a Manager. So woo-hoo for me! Seriously, no regrets - everything worked out for the best. And this doesn't in any way mean that it's OK to quit college halfway. If you can get your degree, then gosh darn it, go get it! Stay in school!!
Anyway, back to my rambling, I started my first job thinking it would be easy. I thought it would be like the summer jobs I used to have, you know, a temp reception kind of job where I'd answer telephones, get people coffee, copy some stuff, fax some stuff, type some stuff. I mean, with no experience and no degree, I always thought that that would be how I started off. Stress free, happy go lucky, a smile on my face every day.
Nope, that's not how I started. I was assigned to something else entirely: telemarketing sales. Oh God, it was an awful job. No offense to anyone who does it, but I really, really, really hated it. I hated that I had to wear a headset all day long that would automatically dial a new number as soon as I hung up on the previous call (without so much as a single minute's break!), I hated that I could hear myself breath through the mouth piece on the stupid headset, I hated that I was calling people and interrupting them, I hated when they were rude to me on the phone, I hated when they would hang up on me without even letting me speak first, I hated that some guys actually tried to hit on me over the phone, and I certainly hated that even though I made a sale, it didn't make me hate the job any less. Did I mention I hated the job?
At times, I would get so stressed over going to work that I would get heartburn and end up feeling sick and barfing the whole day. No joke!
But you know, after a few weeks, I managed to get a grip and suck it up. Thanks to Mom dearest who kept reminding me that I needed the experience, the network, because I might have good use for all of it one day. She told me that everyone has to start from something crappy, in order to be able to have a deeper appreciation for other things, that other things will seem much more rewarding.
In the end, I stayed at that job for nearly two years, got promoted twice (that means 2x the salary too) and transferred to a much more interest job in the marketing and communications department and that job was basically how I got introduced to the job I have now (which I have had for the last NINE years). Rewarding? Yup, I think so. Was it easy to come by? Not at all.
At the end of the day, this is what I think: every first job will be basically pretty crappy - but if you work hard, pay your dues, and try to learn everything there is about that job, eventually it will equip you to be ready for something bigger and better that's patiently waiting around the corner for you. It's never going to be easy, and don't ever let your young, naive, innocent college brains think it will be. Trust me, it's going to be hard. But it's going to be worth it, more than you could possibly imagine.
Last Wednesday, this intern started working at our office.
He came into my office, all shy and seemingly innocent. He wore what was probably his nicest shirt, cotton pants and formal shoes, and shook my hand with a smile. His smile was sincere, I could tell.
After our brief shaking of hands, I led him to the room where three of my staff worked, introduced him as the new intern, and left him in their care. I laughed a bit as I walked away, thinking about that poor kid who had no idea what he was getting into. But if he was anything like me, he would walk away at the end of his internship with his head held high, knowing he was ready to face anything.
I went back and forth to that room to monitor how he was doing, and I couldn't help but feel reminiscent of my own early working days. Geez, that was a heck of a long time ago!
I started working when I was 19, almost 20. I actually celebrated my 20th birthday on the job. Why did I start so early? Easy answer, I dropped out of college. Was it a choice? Definitely not. I just couldn't afford it anymore, and couldn't get student loans. Sad right? Yeah, tell me about it. But before you go all teary eyed and feel sorry that I don't have a Bachelor degree like everyone else (well, maybe not everyone) - don't be. I am happy I started working early. By the time my friends had finished college and just started working, I was already a Manager. So woo-hoo for me! Seriously, no regrets - everything worked out for the best. And this doesn't in any way mean that it's OK to quit college halfway. If you can get your degree, then gosh darn it, go get it! Stay in school!!
Anyway, back to my rambling, I started my first job thinking it would be easy. I thought it would be like the summer jobs I used to have, you know, a temp reception kind of job where I'd answer telephones, get people coffee, copy some stuff, fax some stuff, type some stuff. I mean, with no experience and no degree, I always thought that that would be how I started off. Stress free, happy go lucky, a smile on my face every day.
Nope, that's not how I started. I was assigned to something else entirely: telemarketing sales. Oh God, it was an awful job. No offense to anyone who does it, but I really, really, really hated it. I hated that I had to wear a headset all day long that would automatically dial a new number as soon as I hung up on the previous call (without so much as a single minute's break!), I hated that I could hear myself breath through the mouth piece on the stupid headset, I hated that I was calling people and interrupting them, I hated when they were rude to me on the phone, I hated when they would hang up on me without even letting me speak first, I hated that some guys actually tried to hit on me over the phone, and I certainly hated that even though I made a sale, it didn't make me hate the job any less. Did I mention I hated the job?
At times, I would get so stressed over going to work that I would get heartburn and end up feeling sick and barfing the whole day. No joke!
But you know, after a few weeks, I managed to get a grip and suck it up. Thanks to Mom dearest who kept reminding me that I needed the experience, the network, because I might have good use for all of it one day. She told me that everyone has to start from something crappy, in order to be able to have a deeper appreciation for other things, that other things will seem much more rewarding.
In the end, I stayed at that job for nearly two years, got promoted twice (that means 2x the salary too) and transferred to a much more interest job in the marketing and communications department and that job was basically how I got introduced to the job I have now (which I have had for the last NINE years). Rewarding? Yup, I think so. Was it easy to come by? Not at all.
At the end of the day, this is what I think: every first job will be basically pretty crappy - but if you work hard, pay your dues, and try to learn everything there is about that job, eventually it will equip you to be ready for something bigger and better that's patiently waiting around the corner for you. It's never going to be easy, and don't ever let your young, naive, innocent college brains think it will be. Trust me, it's going to be hard. But it's going to be worth it, more than you could possibly imagine.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Words...
I met a friend of mine a few days ago, someone who I hadn't seen in a while. We exchanged a quick conversation, then went our separate ways, with her saying 'I'll call you! We'll have lunch on Tuesday!' just before she hopped into her fancy black car.
Tuesday passed... she never called.
And while I sat pondering why, I realized that when I saw her in October of last year, she said the same thing, and that led me to remember how we met before that and she also said the same thing! It got me wondering, if she didn't really mean it, why did she keep saying it?
The more I asked around, the more I realized that this happens to everyone! Guys tell girls they'll call after a first date all the time, and never so much as look at the phone afterward - I hear of this the most. My husband said he has a friend who does that to him too, says he'll call but never does, and I just can't help but wonder why? What happened to the good old days when teachers and parents used to remind us to not say something that's not true? Or when our folks used to remind us that a promise is a promise, and we needed to keep them?
Look, it's not as if the world crumbles if they don't call - of course not. We keep it in the back of our mind and life goes on, sure. But I just don't get why people would waste their time and energy just to say something like they'll call when they have no intention of doing so? Is saying something now just a combination of a bunch of words that just happen to form sentences? Have words lost their power and respect from people? Do words mean nothing anymore?
Well, they should. Seriously.
Words should be said and meant. They were created for a reason: to be used and honored - not just to fill in a few minutes of awkward silence and be disregarded. Words have power. They can make someone fall or rise, they can make the world change for the better or for the worse. So why aren't we using our words wisely?
Tuesday passed... she never called.
And while I sat pondering why, I realized that when I saw her in October of last year, she said the same thing, and that led me to remember how we met before that and she also said the same thing! It got me wondering, if she didn't really mean it, why did she keep saying it?
The more I asked around, the more I realized that this happens to everyone! Guys tell girls they'll call after a first date all the time, and never so much as look at the phone afterward - I hear of this the most. My husband said he has a friend who does that to him too, says he'll call but never does, and I just can't help but wonder why? What happened to the good old days when teachers and parents used to remind us to not say something that's not true? Or when our folks used to remind us that a promise is a promise, and we needed to keep them?
Look, it's not as if the world crumbles if they don't call - of course not. We keep it in the back of our mind and life goes on, sure. But I just don't get why people would waste their time and energy just to say something like they'll call when they have no intention of doing so? Is saying something now just a combination of a bunch of words that just happen to form sentences? Have words lost their power and respect from people? Do words mean nothing anymore?
Well, they should. Seriously.
Words should be said and meant. They were created for a reason: to be used and honored - not just to fill in a few minutes of awkward silence and be disregarded. Words have power. They can make someone fall or rise, they can make the world change for the better or for the worse. So why aren't we using our words wisely?
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