On the job again

New Chapter

Yesterday I quit the job that I worked at for the last three and half years. This has been the longest time I worked for any company in my life this far. Every time I left a job in the past, I was reminiscing; I felt sad and nostalgic. Not now, though. Strangely enough, leaving this hellhole was not triggering any sensitivity in my heart and soul. It ate so much out of my life that I cannot even fathom it.

The last two years have been shit for most people. Too much nonsense went on, too much stress, anxiety, bullshit, and the discovery that there could be a new normal, even more, fucked up than the old one. The last two years have been both exciting in my personal life and fucking traumatic workwise. My son was born two years ago; I got a promotion at work; I was finally able to pay off all my debt, save some money, buy a house, we moved to a better place, we’ve traveled, I’ve self-published my first book, a collection of poems, we’ve discovered new things for us as a family. It all began as a mystery in the workplace, turning into something productive for a short period, and then the shit hit the fan, and all the fucking craziness broke loose.

We were all in the lockdown stage of life, and the pandemic was in full swing. All of a sudden, everyone, and I mean everyone, freaked the fuck out. All companies, organizations, grocery stores, factories, banks, you fucking name it, they all went fucking insane. A lot of people learned that their jobs were not essential, and they were fired or furloughed. The government was kind enough to send them “Covid-checks,” which kept most of the people officially out of the workplace for almost two fucking years now. It was scary to go to the grocery store, the fucking shortages began, people were afraid to walk by one another, people were even more strangers than ever.

My workdays became gradually longer and longer, and since we were all locked up in our houses, it was easy to reach us and give us some more work. There were priorities on top of fucking priorities never fucking ended. They always wanted more and more and fucking more! Greedy corporate fucks! Fuck them! Eventually, there was so much work to do that I would still be behind on everything even if I skipped my sleep and meals. Everything just got utterly unmanageable.

I don’t know how and why I took all this shit on myself but apparently, so did everyone who decided to stay employed. On the one hand, this persistence gave me a great opportunity down the line to save more money, remain independent, buy a house, and keep out of debt. On the other hand, I’ve got a fucking significant brain damage from work overload, burnout, fatigue, and quite a few nervous breakdowns. I literally, mentally, and spiritually lost my shit. Regardless of how much work I’ve done, there was always something else, something more, and then more on top of that. Somehow I made it all work.

I tried to keep my sanity intact, I was keeping well with my writing, I was trying to stay fit and exercised a lot, I meditated a lot. More stories and poems reflective of what the fuck was going on in the world and my life than. My mind went into some strange places for a while but luckily came back. I was finally able to finish editing and re-writing some of the poems for my self-published book. The whole process took me almost six months to complete, but I did it. I found a designer who created a cool fucking book cover; I wrote all the bios and intros and re-organized all that shit, and it was an excellent experience for me altogether.

We went to Florida for a week once in late September of 2020 with friends. It was a great time. I was able to relax, forget about the stupid job, relax and stop the fucking time from running. It is fascinating how fast the time was going here in PA, and then out there in FL, everything slowed down. It was just chill. There was no rush, no urgency, nothing particular to do, and no fucking due dates, no deliverables. I just relaxed and got my life back for a week. After we returned, the crazy shitshow continued as usual.

In early 2021 I started to think seriously about a new job. I started to apply online a lot but with no success. I knew my resume was shit, and I needed a better, professionally written resume to breakthrough. The whole resume process went on forever. I started the process with the agency in late February, and it was only ready by early May. Two fucking months of a drag. As I said, everyone was fucked up. In March, I got a severe nervous breakdown while working on a “critical update,” and my fucking phone wasn’t connecting right, and then my computer took a shit, and I threw both of them against the fucking wall. Needed to get new equipment within the same day to get online and finish all that work shit.

Then was an announcement that we would start returning to the office beginning in mid-May. First, it was just voluntary; if you want to come, please come and check it out, see what’s new, see what’s changed. Then it was a mandatory visit or a few visits before early July when the hybrid schedule officially would kick off. I knew that the “freedom” of working from home would end very soon, and I needed to take advantage of that. I needed a vacation, and since last year’s break was very brief, we decided to take a more extended vacation time. Since I started looking for a new job, I decided to use most of my vacation days and mix them with remote work to cover the whole month.

We thought about a two-week straight vacation. But then why in the fuck would we want to cut ourselves short? We found a rent for a whole month of May, at the nice place, in the lovely neighborhood, and it all worked out just fucking great. We went to the beautiful Palmer Ranch in Sarasota, Florida. It was a fucking blast. That sunshine, the ocean, the sand, the palms, fucking alligators, all of it completely changed my life, how I felt, how I thought about life, all the anxiety and bullshit and depression went the fuck away. I felt like a normal human being at last for such a long time. Finally! Finally, I knew that there could be a decent life, a great life is possible, living in Florida is fucking awesome, and the climate is fantastic. I also proved to myself that moving to FL is definitely doable, and we as a family will at some point move out here. Things have changed in our lives as the year went by, and our priorities and responsibilities changed. So we decided to stay in PA and bought a house here in the suburbs. But my heart is other there in Florida. I couldn’t get enough of sitting on the sand, drinking beer, smoking a cigarette, watching the best fucking sunsets ever, and really enjoying my life.

I’ve been very reminiscent about FL recently. Somehow, something just triggered good memories, and I was all consumed by it. The weather on the East Coast is getting colder, too, and that also doesn’t help not thinking about the good warm days. If one had the perfect living place, Sarasota would be mine and the only ideal place to live. I remember evenings spent on the beach with my family, watching the most amazing sunsets while drinking my beer and genuinely enjoying every moment.

There is nothing more simple and more beautiful in the world than a beach. The blue ocean water was calming my worried mind and soul. The sand was so white and pure and soft; you wanted to be there to experience it all and never leave. The days were perfectly hot, with 88 average temperatures, and the sun gently burned out all the anxiety, stress, and bullshit that occupied my brain. The whole experience was very much therapeutic.

The future is unknown, and many things can and will happen down the road. I know that I cannot control most of it, but I can set my mind on something and achieve it. And I will. I fucking will, sooner or later. For now, though, we’ve just got a great house, our first house as a family, it needs us, and it needs our attention, so we’ll be here. We’ll take care of it. We’ll do our best to have a great time here. We’ll be ready to move to Florida in no time. Sarasota, we miss you, and we will be back soon. The new chapter of our life is about to begin.

Lost in New York City: Part I

I arrived in New York City on early Monday morning. I’ve recently got a new job. It was the best thing that happened to me in a long time, getting a new job. After eight months of nothingness, misery, and unemployment, I was a decent human being again. I was back to normal. I could even write again. There was no need to hustle and no need to live on my last dollar anymore. I began to work for a major and well-known financial institution. I was a contract employee, and even though contractors are never even remotely close to employees in terms of general compensation and benefits and all that good shit that we all are thriving for, I was happy at last. I felt like I’ve made it. I, who came from nothing, who came to this country with nothing more than two bags of bullshit and high hopes for a brighter future, have finally made it. I was able to graduate from one of the top business schools in Philly. I worked for various companies, from real estate to medical devices to fucking financing. And here I was, the major player has offered me a new gig. This Company’s name I could proudly put on my resume as one that will open so many opportunities and doors for me in this country where both idiots and dreamers have an equal chance. 

I have booked a hotel right by Times Square, on 47th Avenue, in the “tourist’s heart” of New York, the Big Apple, the City of all the Cities, the power, the money, the big shot, the big shit. I never knew before that my Company had three different buildings in the Manhattan area. Two were across the street from each other in midtown, which reminded me of the Twin Towers. The third one was 15 miles away, downtown. Of course, I booked my hotel closer to the two across the street from one another since I thought that was where I was going to. I was wrong. The lady at the front desk has told me that the building I was looking for is on the other side of Manhattan, downtown. Fuck. I took another cap for another $20 to go to the other side of Town. I paid and walked out with my laptop bag and the mid-size travel luggage bag, and the fucking umbrella which I had to purchase first coming out of the train station. It has been raining in New York since the early morning, and the forecast wasn’t any better for the next few days.

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