It is so hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever done and will ever do. It is the third time I’ve done it since 2008. Twice with geographical restrictions, Thrice within the same industry, an industry plagued with problems. Once for a man who turned out to not give a damn, once that ended badly. At least this time, I feel like I am free to apply to any job anywhere but it doesn’t seem to have opened too many avenues. It is your self-esteem getting raped by inferior individuals.
It hurts a little to know that he who shall not be named has not only changed jobs from awesome company to even more awesome company (in my fucking industry no less) but he also continues to stay in Singapore when he should have already moved to India with his equally abhorrent family like he claimed to want to before. I should feel bitter, I think I do, just a wee bit.
Sidebar: Last week, another friend called me up and deliberately went into great detail about how he had found out where that human compost pile worked and what he did. I tiredly said “I know, I know” till he got the message. This is despite my having told him repeatedly that I really really did not want to know anything about he who shall not be named not even if he is dead or alive.
Comparisons are odious. This is about me.
2012 is going to be fucking hard. Nobody is here for me to talk to. Nobody seems to relate. Nobody says it’s going to be okay. Why, it’s worse than being single because as misguided as the sentiment is, someone always seems to “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone great because you deserve nothing less”. Why can’t someone just swap out one word in that sentence? Yesterday someone emailed me “Jupiter, I hope you find a handsome and caring man in 2012”. Sweet, I thought. Unlikely, but sweet.
Everyone just reaffirms your worst fears. The market is always bad and noone is ever hiring. The notion that you could soon be unemployed seems to bring out the worst in everyone you know – enemies, friends and worst of all, family. From being wished ill “you will never get a visa” to being outright cursed out, I have seen and heard it all. And my dears, it is hard to forgive, to not hold a grudge.
I would like to think that it does not break me. But maybe it does, little by little, maybe for a minute, a day, a week? Don’t get me wrong. I am so grateful for everything I have and I do have an overall happy life.
But I am long overdue for a happy dance. I need some fucking tubthumping here.