Off this heat

It says that the meaning of my name is Hope in the centralized universe. What hope? Mostly hopeless to myself lol. Sheesh.

Work just came pouring in. Like hailstones as big as Hulk on my head.

I just can’t process it. To see my co-worker can just go on tapping on his keyboard looking intently into whatever he is processing (updating his JD, actually), and me with this half head broken sitting next to him.

But then again, others perceive me probably the same as he. Working so hard when her brain isn’t cooperating that she has to blog a post to let the heat flow.

I need 5 minutes to myself. Of off everything.


Yes, little things annoy me; especially little lies.

I am involved in an office committee which really takes time out of me because they had intently pick a Secretary to be the Secretary of the committee so there would be someone taking notes of meetings. Loath that. Because I hate minuting. I can do do acres of blog posts, but not minutes.

So this morning I took half day off, and kinda of saw this email coming in about a committee meeting with the MD. I saw the time, quite irrelevant timing as my time to the office would be later than that.

Then Schubert called me asking me where I was. I told her I was on leave, and she went,

“What about the meeting?” “What meeting?” “The committee meeting” “When did you notify?” “Oh the calendar was sent much earlier” “When was that?” “Much earlier” “Earlier… like… last week?”

“No, I sent out months before”.

This really annoys me because I don’t think I received any. So I got in and began searching for something.

  1. The email received this morning was sent by Raleigh, not Schubert.
  2. The last email Schubert sent was on 2nd April and it was a calendar that no longer exists in the system.

I hate being lied to. Especially when you are so proud of yourself while doing that. What’s the precise word for it? Condescending. Yes. Such ironic that Schubert came in to be my assistant for the office we worked for 11 years ago. But now she is at the same level as I am.

But really, what do I know more about this? Am I hypersensitive? You know what, I really don’t care. Because despite the gap of meeting is only 30 minutes to the time I come in, I don’t bother to even try to join it. I’m annoyed and I already know I’m an asshole to begin with.



Edit: On typos because it kinda made me look stupid. Especially when I’m annoyed just writing this. But seriously self, you shouldn’t care anyhoo…

Jousting haystacks on needles

Sleep was bad last night. Work has been overworked. I draw the line between what I have to do and what I am unable to do. People are emotional. Men adapting like horrid aunts in manipulating words to just you. I don’t fucking care.

Have I been working late for weeks. Sorting out needles in haystacks. Tired. Handling people, projects and paperwork. I deserve my weekends and time off so you are not allowed to judge me. Maybe it’s just that you don’t have anything to do that you have time to point your 1 finger at other people.  Don’t forget you have the other 4 fingers pointing back at you dude.

With love,

Sleepless in the Office (And ultimately remain as an asshole)


The Elusive INFJ

I needed this today. Direct, no frills, layman term that’s easy enough for my head to digest on this limited capacity of taking in other people’s state of unsound minds.

An empath as well as an energy vampire, all of their unsound auras don’t help much. I find myself smoking 5 sticks straight just sitting outside the house for even having them cross my mind.

I’ve been an intolerant asshole these 2 weeks. Not sorry, but 5% of self-doubt for shouting at people, unpleasantly frustrating other people, not even lifting an eye to look at them for they are nothing for being selfish thwarts; just the same for being bossy with useless capacity to actual lead. Oh how they frustrate and disgust me.

Yes, I’m an asshole and I don’t f*cking care because they started it in the first place.


Cultural Disasters

They’ve been called a lot of things: The Unicorn, The Special Snowflake, The Oracle, The Protector, The Physic, The Counselor. But whatever you want to call the rarest 1% of the population, it’s hard to deny that they’re the most elusive type among us. In fact, it’s a fairly safe bet to assume that no one is actually an INFJ but in their own deluded, self-aggrandizing minds. MBTI buffs, particularly of the NF variety, love to self-efface from the vague descriptions online and wave the INFJ flag. That’s precisely why, whenever someone who is unfamiliar with the MBTI tool and cognitive functions takes the test in front of me and gets the INFJ result, I take astute interest in them.

Would you like a cookie? Would you like a cookie?

Are you actually an INFP?

The thing I always want to know first is ‘Are you actually an INFP?’. Why? Because INFPs frequently mistakes themselves for…

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The curse of INFJ

I am brash. Self critical. Self deny. Feeling unhappy is a constant cycle. Shout. Rage. Tempestuous. Ugly cry. Wall face. Fear to fall. Fearless when done. Inner conflict. Suffering. Guilt. Burden. Latching off. Independence. Numbness. Care. Love.

So much love. So much pain. So much guilt. Hate rejection. Hate hate.

Sitting duck.

Please come to bed with me, and place your hand over my head to keep me safe. Because I’m tired of this cycle.

I need to take a break from myself.

Surprise myself, so I will.

There is a high school reunion coming up where I had been on the fence about.

DH has always been my savior when it comes to socializing, especially when it comes to mingling among our school friends ever since we were together. I would enclose myself within myself and sit back just watching him and join in as and when it feels comfortable. Even when it gets to parties at home. I cook and provide, he invites and PRs the party on. Yeah, I’m boring as shit. Lol. But I’m fine with boring. At least until this reunion thing came up. And he can’t make it.

Circle of friends start popping in and out. Asking, pushing for registration money and all. At first, I didn’t have it – the money. Then I found out that the party premise would be at another friend’s newly opened business premise where most people know how savage that person is at business. No compromise on cost. I plainly look at it as conflict of interest. That just completely throws me off the board.

However, these girls kept asking. I considered although I had been pacing all these things in my brain. Although I’m as normal and grounded as I can be, I always feel like I sit on a certain par in other people’s eyes. Like there’s a certain standard to it. From physical and the way I speak. There is an expectation.

So I look myself in the mirror. 13 kilos overweight. At 42, with still very bad complexion. Triad illness. Unkempt. Possible bad BO. Rundown face for not smiling for the last 42 years of it. Bad financial state. Still depend on my parents to run my children around. Out of shape and mildly depressed when people ask me out for Zumba Strong. I am embarrassed with myself. But yet, there it is. Still.

I have no achievements. No ambition other than the wants of being on the beach, own home, travel. Everything else seems sufficient. Like Meredith Grey. Just moving in being suffice if it makes any sense at all.

Perhaps, that was the bottom of it all. Put aside all excuses I have been giving about how everything will exhaust me. How everyone will expect some connection and having to repeat stories of my life, vice versa, to smile and pretend like I’m happy when I’d be so exhausted then. I need a safe refuge. Even the girls who say it, that I will be protected, don’t seem to be who I thought they would be.

Contradicting. My brain falls into waterfalls of self-doubt. In all kindness toward myself, I know I had done my best for myself, taking care of my own heart and finding out if my heart was really in to attend it, without a safe refuge. So I’ve let the dateline pass, therefore I won’t be attending the Jubilee Reunion.

Not attending would be, a gift, for me.

Note: With no intention whatsoever, I will not be running through this blog before posting. Just because I want to surprise myself with whatever that I let write from these fingers on the keyboard.