OCT2019

Dear Diary,

It's October. October 9th to be exact, and already things have started to go south for me. October is a month of curses for me, the otherwise scientific person, I swear.

October 2nd, I was fined for disobeying a red light. Did I really do it? Consciously? Was I in a rush? A bad mood? A bad judgment call? Hell, I don't know the answers to any of that. I drive so much as a delivery driver, so when the admin of the company asked if I remembered disobeying a red on the 7th, I really couldn't even recall a thing about it. It's like asking what you had for breakfast a week ago. Who remembers that crap? It's a 400 dollar fine and 12 demerit points for me, and... I'm an overly sensitive person already under a lot of stress, most of which financial, so the news hadn't been kind to me, and I contemplated suicide again for being such a useless imbecile. Yeah, that'll show those stupid government mules!

October 1st, I got a pay cut. The boss of the small company has been saying since day one how awful the economy has been, and as a result, how slow business has been. Prior to October, I had worked full time for 1.5k/mth for two months and change. It's not like business had suddenly taken a nosedive just because it's October; but rather, it was an ongoing thing. Now, you may be thinking, "wait, why is he hiring new employees in spite of how bad business and profits have been? Especially a new employee who's not going to bring in any new sales?" Yeah, I kinda thought that too, but I decided not to question it back then. After all, I've my hands full trying to fix my own shitty life, and of course, dealing with the sudden blow to me that - is leaving me. It's his company, let him run it however he wants. But the fact that he comes to me on September the 30th citing preexisting reasons to halve my working hours and pay just reeks of a scheme to me. Again, overly sensitive person, and overly obligated to protect myself, so this whole deal just didn't sit well with me at all. In fact, it made my attitude on the job go a full 180.

Now, more than ever, I have a hair trigger temper. I for the first time felt disinterested in the job, often letting laziness dictate how I do the job rather than customer satisfaction or what would be best for the company. Hell, just yesterday in fact, I got so mad at a bottle cap somehow managing to roll off my van twice that I yelled, in public, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" No job is ever easy, but it's only now that the inconveniences and the pain in the ass parts make me consider quitting. I mean, "I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit", is what I keep thinking to myself every day. If you thought 1.5k was peanuts, especially in the insane society that is Singapore, just imagine halving that crap. I at this point won't even be able to provide for myself, let alone save up for a future.

I've yet to quit for a few reasons, chief of which is because my father's company lorry has now been sold off due to the poor economy blah blah what even is an economy. So right now, I'm the only one in the family that "has" a vehicle to ferry us around. And thus, the duty of "driver" has since fallen onto my shoulders, and they aren't exactly shy about making the most of that. I can't say I'm thrilled to ferry them around either, especially given how exhausted physically I am and drained mentally on the weekends; I just want to be a hermit at home. The fact that my mother especially, would demand I drive her out, and then throw a tantrum and pull the "unfilial son" card, then leave a trail of passive aggression "oh poor me" in the wake of my refusal just exacerbates what I hate about my family, and my own belief that no one really cares about how I feel, not even my own fucking family.

The second reason, well... I love this job. I love driving. And even though I as of now am working at a net loss financially, it's at least a job, you know? It's at least something where there used to be nothing. It at least gives me something for my brain to gnaw on, instead of feeding on my crippling doubts, fears, and insecurities (though you can make the argument that actually having a job and being out in society makes those doubts, fears, and insecurities much, much worse but blah let's just stick with the positive spin on things for now). I want to try to count my blessings and appreciate what I have, since I am often accused of being an ingrate. I have a van to myself in my off hours. I have mental and physical exercise at a job. I have an anchor, a structure to my sleep cycle because I have a job. And now that my mornings are free, I can really go for a swim twice, or even thrice a week on weekdays to try and lose some goddamned fat. Being out and about means I actually eat cheaper and (somewhat) healthier, instead of defaulting on fast food near my house if I'm to be at home all day, every day.

I'm just extremely saddened and disappointed in my boss and the one other employee in the company, his ex-wife, whom he evidently still cares for. I work my ass off for two months. I was (almost) always the first to work and last to leave. I never complained about my job. I took all the industry renowned abuse of my short tempered and unreasonable boss without lashing back. I had heart to heart talks with the admin regarding family, mental health, work, etc.. I thought I was helping them. I thought we had a good thing going. I thought we had trust, you know? But as the stunt evidently shows, I was just a fucking idiot, a pawn, a fool, to be played at the lowest cost possible. There was never going to be trust. Trust that I feel I have tried my hardest to earn. And it would seem that my efforts the past two months had not changed their financial centric minds.

Sounds awfully familiar, huh?

Call me naive. Call me stupid. Call me whatever you want, but I stand by my actions and my beliefs. I believe that, regardless of what industry you're in, what work you perform, or what kind of a company you work for, that trust and hard work are the bare fundamentals of any office, or any setting where human beings have to work together. Without either of the two, there simply cannot be any quality work done. The whole point of me working for this sinking kayak of a company was because I didn't want to deal with politics. I didn't want to deal with the games people play when they have a corporate ladder to climb, or simply to hang onto a job they have. I find it so, so stupid, that people would do this to their fellow human beings. I find it such an unnecessary and asinine waste of effort and a wasteful toll on the mind at work. Maybe it's because I never had a childhood I expected to have, but I really wish that one day I'll find a company, an office, that shares my same values and beliefs, where I can feel appreciated and belong in. Yes, this is the very definition of wishful thinking, but what the hell else am I to do? Be the monster I see around me every day? Be a fucking asshole? I don't think I'm capable of that, nor do I really want to try and be like that. I don't want to be a slave to fear and finances for the rest of my life, for most of my waking hours. I could not bring myself to hurt someone else intentionally, because I know just how deep that ocean goes. And perhaps I'm a fucking idiot for being so empathetic and kind. Or maybe empathy and kindness are just nicer sounding excuses for me to refuse to change for the better. Who knows?

I am a fucking hypocrite. Or at least, I'm just now starting to find out I'm one, as of these past nine days in October. Without realising or wanting it, I am becoming that monster I see in everyone and I hate. I am becoming motivated only by money and not the job. I mean, that's the whole point of a job, right? You perform a service and get paid for it. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm getting played and unappreciated for what I do, for the trust I put into others. But who else have I to blame for that but myself? They didn't ask for that trust. - didn't ask for that trust. I knowingly and willingly invest in others, and I get hurt when they don't reciprocate. I am a fucking dumbass who refuses to change.

And I hate myself immensely for it. For all the times I think and say I'll kill myself after each and every time something sets my overly sensitive ass off, I don't have the balls to actually kill myself. And I hate myself immensely for it. It feels as if I can't even take my own words and my own feelings seriously anymore. And if I can't, how should others? I am a goddamned joke. A goddamned toy, to be played by others, to be pointed to and laughed at.