Ex-student At Work

What follows is not a well-balanced argument, nor a good example of how a man’s life should be lived. It contains no perseverance about how I could produce such mindless piece of writing or whatsoever, and so there shall no misleading opinions be deduced after reading this week’s note. I am working now, having a job which turns out to be rather enjoyable than not and essentially serve the purpose of a life cycle, much like anyone of you actually, only that we speak in a quite unparallel universe. Some say that life is much of like a wheel; there are times when you at the bottom point, but soon you will find yourselves at the top too. Wise one I thought. Even Albert Einstein made a quote of his own that life is much like a bicycle and you have to keep moving to maintain the balance. Wise one too I thought, except that he was a bit wrong. The thing is though, Einstein was born in Germany, a country which I believe now and then had no road nails, which are inevitable here. In basic language for people who live in this country, that means a slight chance of having a tire puncture while you pedaling your bike along the dusty streets. Eventually, you will lose your balance and suffer from something Shakespeare had described as “never run smooth”. But I don’t give it a damn because things revolving around are still in very good control, as it turns out.

And it’s the same story too with the course of good life, it did never run smooth. Despite so, it is extremely important to move on and hold onto what we believe in, that things may just work out. After a deliberate consideration, I would say that school life was pretty much pleasurable, though I never develop a sense of missing it like those bunch of hyperbolic melancholies do. However, as a university student, I did find that things going around was more sort of.. let’s say out of control, because there were times where things went a bit wrong: caught speeding on a motorway, had a birthday muffin which unconsciously contained a tiny dose of drag in it, violated public convenience by vomiting on roadside, had security guards’ eyes locked on me while being slightly drunk on a train station. Obviously none of the stories are very inspirational or I am proud of, but it is just a giggle to recall it today and become a sheer joy to remember. Though today, it was a revelation that I passed the medical examination while applying for the job, thanks to the tame dose of marijuana-ish bakery back then. 

"I will never invite my superiors to come over for a dinner at my house."

Now before you leap into conclusion, I shall explain my own theory which separates between study and work life. Now I couldn’t care less of be it a high school or university student, but the essence is you sit in the boxy classroom and find that people around you are actually the same. Well yes, some are blessed with the brain size of a cow’s spleen, but truth be told, we sit in the same height as anybody else and that makes all students firmly grounded to the earth, plenty of oxygen to breath. But obviously, ostensibly, in the olden days the course of going to school or university every morning was more often than not highlighted by a dreary feel, that more quizzes or assignments were up ahead and just maybe, everyone wished to end it soon. However, work life turns out to be nothing but living in Mars where you should stay wide awake while inhaling almost nothing and as a result, you cough or choke rather uncomfortably. In the university, I was once teamed with a bright guy whose study room is nothing but the lab of a geeky pharmacologist who is researching for the anti-serum of Anthrax; it has scrap papers covering the entire flooring instead of ceramic tiles and window frame as bookshelf.  It was by far the most outrageous personality I have ever come across, until last week in the office. Some ginger young lady yelled frivolously after complaining about being unable to dial a phone number via the Bluetooth system in her recently delivered car and therefore, asked for a complete refund of the car she had bought. That particular day certainly didn’t run smooth and after what it seemed like the hubbub of unfashionable haunt, I am afraid that it was not very wise of her to do so, partly because it was just a small electrical infidelity. I might consider for a refund under the case if she dialed home and the system engaged her to a post office in India.

Eventually and since the bright guy could not manage to find an answer to his Anthrax research, he is employed now and welcomes work life as I did. The tire puncture, I mean the ginger young lady also had found a cure to her car’s Blueteeth syndrome, thanks to the boffins at workshop who work brilliantly. I am not in any minute going to suggest that some foul-mouthed customers has killed the motivation of stepping into the office every morning, but the act of returning back into the dull classroom for a post degree study is actually not bad concept either, it was the sense that one could learn something new every single day that dominates, not least of which is the sheer experience of befriending with almost everyone, something which work life misses. It just is because I will never invite my superiors to come over for a dinner at my house, and hopefully people from recruitment department are unaware with this note, because I am.  Until the next posting, enjoy!