Part 2: Ennui

I. am. feeling. very. out . of. it.

And have of late, come to realise that I am no more wiser about what I want to do with my life than when I first entered university.

Which sucks - because that essentially renders everything that I've done since graduation (read: the last four years) quite useless and casts a shadow over university days as one that merely delayed the inevitable question of "What do you really want to do when you grow up?" - a question I thought I had already answered.

Fresh out of school, the world was supposed to be our oyster. As recent graduates, we hoped that whatever path explored would lead us to where we eventually want to go. But the excitement of youth lasts only as long as the unknown, and all the pep talks about how much time we have to figure our lives out because we're still young doesn't carry much weight any more, once we realise that in trying to explore, we've lost that same youth which was supposed to carry us through difficult days. But that's the thing about youth isn't it? It doesn't last.

I can even counsel myself as I'm typing this with phrases such as "It's the process, not the product, that counts" or "If you hadn't tried it, you wouldn't have known", which makes me feel even worse because it points to an awareness both of that same hope I had started out with, and the outcome I now face: The path I had chosen to explore has led me nowhere closer to finding my calling in life.

The worst thing is that I had chosen a path that conformed to social stereotype upon returning from a university/ country that celebrates diversity as a culture; and now, in rejecting the conformist choicest I made, I am left with not knowing what I want precisely because I learnt (and subsequently forgot or ignored) that I can be/ do anything I want.

Irony. Ambiguities. Ambivalence.Rejection. Rebellion.

I am, ashamedly, the epitome of teenage-angst right now, caught up in what I find described most aptly by the orginally-French word for boredom: ENNUI because other than being that feeling of utter weariness and discontent due to a lack of interest, ennui actually also refers to a state of existentialist issues, which in my case is unfortunately, a quarter-life crisis.

In trying to sort things out, I have opted to leave (not my job/industry) but the current place where I work in pursuit of what would ideally be a more accomodating environment. This is supposed to narrow down the seeds of my discontent so that by the end of 2008 when my bond runs out, I can make a more informed decision of whether to leave or stay in the job.

Speaking of which, according to my colleague/friend, the best way to resign is to say nothing. When asked for the reason, say: "I'm sorry, but it's personal and I don't want to talk about it." Had I known this, perhaps I would have handled the resignation "inquiry" session better instead of trying to defend and explain myself in so many ways until there was no redeeming myself. The process of resigning, of course, did nothing to make me feel better about myself which is understandable. What I did not expect, however, was to be judged and to have my character questioned simply for feeling that the job might not be for me. Perhaps it was naivety on my part, but I had honestly thought that someone who has worked so long and in such a high position would be able to dissociate and not take employees coming and going so personally. But I was wrong. In any case, the short and long of it is condensed below:

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The LADY's reprimand: We invest in our staff and we expected that you kept to your commitment of at least three years. [Silence follows.]

Her parting slices of wisdom: Let me warn you to save you the disillusionment - you'll never find the kind of perfection you're seeking. There's no such thing as work-life balance, only work-life harmony.

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So where does this leave me now?

All the more disgruntled with the close-mindedness of people who are supposed to be what? Nurturing? Who can actually say: "It's not my job to solve my officers' issues." Who in their ivory towers cannot even see that they have become the antithesis of the very purpose and institution they are supposed to stand for.

I am left feeling all the more convinced that this is not the place I want to be.

Part 1: Where was I ?

Ok so I haven't as intended, been dutifully updating my blog. I'm so far gone I have to back-date my entries, sigh. But in the wee hours of the morning, after spending the whole day catching up with friends (female no less) I have not seen in eons, I thought there was no better way to close my "ME-day" than catching up with my life on my blog. Randomly, one of the more interesting highlights of the year for me (other than getting engaged of course) was getting to go to the National Day Parade '07. In the days leading up to it though - in other words, as National Day neared - it suddenly became very unglam to be patriotic or excited about the country. Being politically apathetic most of the time, I tend to separate the country from its leaders, thankful mostly for the present peace and security I feel. Myopic, I know. But what else is there to be done? Supporters have no need to voice what is already printed evidently in the daily newspapers. Critics retaliate with minimal impact. What needs to be said has been said, blogged even, by so many who concern themselves with the 101 ways this country is going to the dogs.

Still nothing changes.

So instead we complained about the impending wet weather, the hassle, the crowds; we griped about the extravagance, the security, the hoohahs. The fireworks display became a convenient excuse to be part of the celebration charade, a performance attended really more out of curiosity than creed. And by the end of the night, despite the hype of being held for the first time at the Marina Bay, NDP '07 was simply quite a blah-affair, one whose furor was probably better felt watching it live on television to the voice-over from the commentators and in the comfort of home, particularly if you stayed in the east where glimpses of the much awaited fireworks can be seen. Ultimately, it was an experience worth going through but never repeated, much akin to the A-levels actually.

I did, however, get some nice shots:

Perhaps there is a baby pooh in all of us who while waiting for real parents to step up to the task, can in the mean time only be grateful for the nanny state that we are in.