The Green Fucking Archers: Of Stupid Scholastic Wars and Self-Proclaimed Greatness

I write this with one archer just 2 meters beside me. A part of me wants him to "accidentally"glance at see this big upper-case letters - THE GREEN FUCKING ARCHERS - just to further test my already proven claim.

I have been exposed to this said species since college. Stereotyping was, and still is, not my thing so I dismissed whatever label people had of them. I expected, being the optimist that I am, for their kind to give me (us) the same benefit. I felt scholastic wars were just for basketball tournaments and cheering competitions and soccer leagues and quiz bees. Once you're out of the arena, I expected the exact same thing these universities boast about - that they breed the best kind, the best kind I suppose will exude maturity and humility. In the end, what I thought as my best trait turned out as my worst folly. Once I entered this vast world of corporate life and witnessed first hand the superficiality of the life with laptops, black suites and freaking starbucks coffee, I became confused on whether I should be thankful that I graduated in my university or not. I'm thankful and unthankful that I have been instilled humility - too much actually. Sometimes I get confused whether what I'm doing is a show of humility or tolerance.

Meething archers and eagles in live skin and seeing them practically spam mailboxes with useless tosses of self-proclaimed greatness is too much for me. Listening to their conversations about green vs. blue and about how they'd go for the lakers because the lakers are green as well, irritate me. I always feel the need to throw the first thing I'm able to grasp whenever I hear 30 year olds speak about how they've already read this book and watched this movie and know this guy and gone to this place and so on with all his blurb on how great he is - as if he's trying to prove something. Give me a break! I wouldn't judge you dumb if you haven't done all those things. So for the love of peace, will you stop bragging about all your useless "credentials".

It's just so funny how this species can say a lot of things, in a corporate meeting, when they talk about the places they've gone to. And in fact, they say the same things in all conversations. But try to look at them while the real business is talked about and I'm sure, you'll see them scribbling, tracing notebook fonts and playing with their cool phones. Oooohhhh coooooollll phones!

I really don't care whether you're an archer, an eagle or even a marroon. What I care about though is if you talk to me about useless things like american tv series while I am in the middle of a crisis trying to make a profit and loss analysis. What I care about is if you talk to your kind about your basketball team fancy as if you own the building, while I try to develop a qualitymanagement system. What I care about is you boasting about your university and how "you think" it's the best while you sloathe around and depend everything on your subordinates as if graduating in your oh-so-famous universities instantly gives you the right to be a boss and a bum at the same time.

I write the last paragraphs of this entry with one eagle in sight. I want to strangle him for texting me this morning about his parking space. I did not graduate cum laude to worry about your fuckin parking space man! You don't see my species boasting about how we passed UPCAT and you didn't! We don't judge you just because you flunked it! Go get yourself a brain!

I wish people are really what they pretend they are - great and all. That way, I wouldn't invest time writing this blog. Saves time, emotion and saves lives - because literally, I'm thinking of getting all these conceited wannabes all together in one place and getting that place nuked.

Argh...maybe I'm just tired and they're just so freakin incompetent.

This is a shout-out to the world:

Before you boast about your school, make sure your school can boast about you!

The Direct Proportionality of the Severity of Room Clutter and Employee Dissatisfaction

It’s 6:10 in the morning and if I were a very satisfied employee, I’d just about be getting ready for work now. But as I examine the current state of my room and as I blaze through all the clutter, I find myself with the least motivation to hit the shower and start my everyday routine toward the office.

My room’s a mess. I can see my charger, my training manuals and a set of underwear all at the same place. I can’t find my keys for two days now. And I can see loose change everywhere.

I admit, I have always been a clutter person since I was a kid. Being the eldest and all, I have always been pampered with minimal manual work. But this mess I’m seeing right now doesn’t even remotely reflect my upbringing. For when I started working in this company, I treated my house as my sole solace for the loads of work (manual, mental, emotional etc.) this job ever so gently shoved – oxymoron - in my face.

These past few days though have been exceptionally gruelling. Last Monday, I woke up in the morning realizing that I actually slept on my favourite pair of brassiere and all my make-up set are strewed in a way I would assume only the busiest lady in the world would be capable strewing. That’s when it hit me – I’m stressed and my love for work is failing.

My corporate life is what people deem as that which I do so greatly on. In some ways, I agree. But right now, nothing can change the fact that it’s 6:42 in the morning and I haven’t exerted a least bit of effort to start preparing for work. As I’ve said, if I were a very satisfied employee, I’d just about be getting ready now.