I have this fantasy where I live in an apathetic society.
It’s possible to buy marshmallow chocolate eggs again. They come in strip packs or can be purchased individually. They aren’t particularly tasty, and we have about 50 left in the office from last year. The synthetic, sugary insides have become so hard that the eggs can be used as weapons. Or as building material for some uninspired architect that doesn’t want to be awesome and design an eco-friend Hobbit House.
It looks a little like building material... If you tilt your head a bit.
Between that and the heart shaped sweets for Valentines day, I have no idea what to celebrate (and by celebrate I mean waste my money on) anymore. Two weeks ago, shops still had Christmas decor up. Now they are plugging romance and bunnies. Consumers don’t even get a holiday to recover from the excessive Christmas spending before they feel forced to get into the next big event.
Here are some special day and special day related facts:
Jesus wasn’t born on the 25th of December.
The Easter Bunny isn’t real.
Chocolate makes you fat.
And when I see a lot of the colour red, I think about meat. So, all I actually want to do most of the time is eat lamb chops and bacon. I don’t want to buy chocolates or roses. I don’t want diamond earrings or perfume. I wouldn’t mind a unicorn, but this is the appropriate time of the year.
This does not make me want to take my clothes off
But why can’t we all just live? Why do we always have to prepare for some occasion?
So, I work. I’m a young professional at the cusp of my career… And while I never thought I would do what I am doing, I love it and it’s taking over my life.
It's either or...
A day in my life starts with my alarm going off and me hitting snooze for about half an hour. But, reader, it’s cold out there and R50.00 excluding VAT says you are doing the same. Then it’s coffee, shower and off to the office for that hour and a half of silence and concentration before business officially opens (I have had phone calls at 07:30 though). And then the flood gates open and I’m rushed off my feet for the next eight hours. Then I hang around for another half hour or so, because, well, your business is important to me, and I will get you what you want.
Dear coffee: Thank You!
Like many of my peers and colleagues, I don’t take lunch. I eat at my desk, and I take calls with my mouth full. It’s a good thing people like to talk, or else I would never get the chance to chew. I have become a master of multitasking, and can type up an e-mail completely unrelated to the phone call I stupidly took. So, in case you were wondering, I’m fine, thanks, and it’s freaking great that your Bulldog is okay after her operation. And I’ll send you that document in… hey, what do you know, it’s on its way right now. Do you have it? Great, goodbye.
Dear phone: I hate you!
Once I get home, I need to eat again. That means dinner for one, or sometimes dinner for five – because leftovers are great to take with the next day and eating the same thing two days in a row is a serious time saver.
Unlike other single, working people, I actually cook for myself. And not just two-minute noodles (I lost interest in those in the first three months of university), I’m talking about minimum two vegetables and some protein. Or pizza. I don’t do microwave dinners, I’m not paying money for something that smells like a wet dog when it’s ‘ready’, that is packed with sodium and is mostly made out of recycled cardboard and dye. Over the years I have become a decent cook, I have made amazing things with whatever is in the kitchen, and I’ve had some failures that have resulted in me needing to throw pots away. But 90% of the time, I’m eating okay and keeping those energy levels up for the next day.
Thank you for your interest in my body, but I'm taking my nutritional needs elsewhere
I will then collapse into bed, with a book I’m too tired to focus on and read the same chapter three times before deciding it’s late and going to sleep.
Sometimes, I will have work functions. And these will drag on well past my bed time and I’ll watch people drink heavily and network with them, even though they will never remember who I actually am.
Sometimes, I can take a friend to work functions. These go on until the early hours of the morning too, but at least I have decent conversation that extends beyond soccer and weather (honestly, is there NOTHING else to chat about?).
And that is how I spend my evenings.
Catching Z's is awesome
Some of my friends are married, living with their lovers or in serious relationships. And I need to know – how do they do it?
I barely have time for myself, but these guys are making time for another (every single day), getting their laundry done and producing meals that put mine to shame. They stay happy and connected, sometimes nauseatingly so, and I’m proud of them – high five, guys, you have superior time management skills! I currently don’t even have the time to date.
Before I blink again, it’s Friday and then I blink again and it’s Monday.
So, sure, I spend a large chunk of my weekends working. And sure, I’m really busy all the time. But that’s what it’s like being a working person. Relationships get neglected and recreation becomes a thing of the past.
One thing I do know is that I am luckier than most.
I love my job. I have a passion for my industry. A lot of people my age are miserable in their careers and desperate for something new – but it’s tough times for business, so they stick it out and become increasingly miserable. But not me, my exhaustion and routine make me happy.
And that is the life of this young professional in 750 words!
Antithetical 