Waking Up (& Working) Is Hard To Do

I absolutely deplore waking up in the morning and going to work! I have to drag myself out of bed at 7:30 am to go to my office. But  first I suppress the urge to scream & shout. I'm sort of an overgrown child, the one who doesn't like school. 

Why does work have to start early?!? My brain refuses to function at such an unearthly hour. Actually, it doesn't function much anyway but the performance is even worse at the crack of dawn. Beginning the workday before 11 am should be illegal in my humble opinion. 

I've personally renamed Monday as Mourn-day because that is what it really is. We are commencing a week long lamentation. A miserable grieving process that seems endless.

I'm sure there people out there who like/love their job and are good at it. Unfortunately, I fail on both counts. I know I'm not entitled to have a great job which I find bearable. One has to work hard to get something like that. Me, I am just weary, lethargic, lazy, and a procrastinator and prefer to stay idle so that ain't happening anytime soon (more like never ever)!

Highway to Hell

Driving to my former workplace was absolutely unbearable. The traffic was awful. Moreover, it was the prime location for public protests. During these demonstrations by the disgruntled populace, the traffic was either diverted to the side roads or completely blocked. Vehicles stood bumper to bumper for hours on end! This extended my already lengthy travel time. By the time I reached home I couldn't even stand straight owing to being cooped up in the car for what seemed like an eternity. A dire situation indeed!

The journey was also rather momentous. Check posts, bridges, 7-8 traffic signals, hoards of rickshaws and motorcycles, and a whole lot of exceptionally bad car drivers. Driving was a stressful experience in such abysmal circumstances. I would curse other drivers most of the time for their moronic driving. Pretty sure they would be doing the same. I hit two or three motorcycles in the beginning, bumped into the cones and spikes at the check post (damaging the car in the process), and got my first “traffic violation” ticket on my birthday. It was a very minor violation, something people do all the time but I guess it wasn't my lucky day. Infuriating indeed!

VVIP Movement was also a common occurrence in that part of the city. Again, traffic was blocked for hours just so His Excellency would enjoy a smooth run accompanied by numerous security vehicles.

The last straw was when I crashed my car into a squad car which was escorting some big shot’s son to school.  There was quite a bit of damage. Very perturbing! They finally paid up after dilly dallying for almost four months.

Presently, I am on a hiatus from driving.  Quite sure when I start again, I wouldn't want to. My nerves are frayed!

 We had two drivers in a span of ten months before I started driving myself, and they got on our nerves. I thoroughly disliked them. And, they were extremely lazy and high maintenance. One of them used to rest in the basement of the office the whole day and then did the same at home.  Utmost sloth. 

Fish Market Blues

My previous job (fish market) was a government one. There was massive over-staffing and all appointments were made on the basis of some sort of reference. A person who only had a high school education was hired as vice president just because he was a former minister’s son! How can such an organization make any progress?! Ironic indeed because “development” is part of the name of that highly esteemed and prestigious organization!

It was very frustrating when I saw people who were less qualified get inducted at higher grades. And they were treated like royalty. I also had to drive forty five minutes to get to that godforsaken place. The drivers there thought they were doing me a big, huge favor by parking my car. In contrast, they were at the beck and call of the royal highnesses.  Exasperated, I decided to park outside which extended my travel time to that hell-hole even further. In the last couple of months I was there, I got into a major accident and after that I really didn't feel like going there.

The people there used to have “fish parties” in the winters where they devoured enormous quantities of fish in a not so orderly manner. Gorging is a more appropriate word for the way they ate. Afterwards, everything reeked of fish which was absolutely revolting. In the summers, they gobbled up innumerable mangoes. That wasn’t exactly a sight to behold either. Gluttony personified!

They were also the embodiment of sloth. The golden rule was “look busy, do nothing”. Others spent their days spewing (so called) pearls of wisdom.  Some were inclined towards ogling.

Moreover, the organization seemed to be operating in a prehistoric era where all the work was done manually. All entries were made in huge ledgers and the fish and mango eaters preferred this ancient system. They were unwilling to change as is the case of most old timers.

Besides, I didn't fit into the Punjabi speaking, noisy setting.  An ode to my patience and perseverance for enduring this torture for almost four years!