Can You Hear the Violins Playing?

Can you hear the violins playing?

Because what better instrument is there to accompany this pretty depressing post where I drown myself in a pool of self pity. There will be a lot of venting and maybe a huge dollop of childish whining too I think. So if you have been walking on cloud 9 all this while I strongly recommend that you stop right here and turn back lest this post cast a dark cloud over you ray of happiness.   

Remember, you have been warned… Let the wallowing begin…

These past two weeks have been pretty crappy for me. Stressed out and insomniac, I have teetered on the verge of losing utter and complete control. Not only did I have to settle two major undertakings, both of which are unresolved, a jack*ss colleague of mine had sneaked behind my back and made me have to put one of them on complete hold.

In a bid to settle this issue I seek counsel (as recommended by my superior) from someone who despite his eccentrisity, was (read: WAS) still a leader in my eyes only to be handed embarrassment and total humiliation, not to mention total degradation on a silver platter this morning. This so called leader did something so unprofessional in a meeting that if I didn’t have any shred of lady like upbringing, I would have marched into his office and smashed his teeth in.  

A leader is someone who guides, leads and teaches one’s subordinates without singling out anyone and embarrassing anyone in public, least of all when that someone is not in the room. Right then and there any smidgen of respect that I may have for him is gone and never to come back again. To embarrass me is one thing, but to insult my superior and drag my department down as well? That’s pathetic.

The stress, lack of sleep and battery to my self-esteem in the short span of time has made me feel about a hundred years old. Add that to the feeling of emptiness that can only be obtained from doing a job one doesn’t like (okay, hate) and working in a place where people only feel remotely important when they’re talking about someone else behind their back, I can feel depression settling upon me.

Once again for the 2578^th time I wondered, why did I move back to Sabah? Each time that question resonates in my mind I feel a stab of pain and guilt. I feel guilty because it seems disloyal somehow. The fact of the matter is I don’t miss living in KL and Putrajaya nor do I prefer both over Sabah. I just miss working in an HQ where there are better facillities, never a lack of resources and everything can be settled ASAP because the person in charge sits two cubicles to the left from mine. Is that wrong?

Oh well, I guess that's enough indulgence on self-pity. You guys have a great weekend and Happy Deepavali to all my friends who celebrate it..