“Earth to Neera!” She’s snapped. “So what’s with the day dream mode? It’s only 10 am in the morning,” say the busybody colleague. “My boss gives me permission to do this all day today. It’s for my KPI,” she replied sarcastically. Quickly, she turns her back on the busybody colleague; put her headphone on before she hears any comeback remarks. Listening to Muse’s Time Is Running Out, she goes back to her dreamland mode, where people are all smiles, sun is shining all day long, the ocean is as bluerer as ever….” “NEERAAAA!!!!My office!NOW!” The echoes were ringing so loud in her ear she swears she could be deaf. Behind her, the busybody colleague, who took off her headphone was wearing the smuggest look which can beat Kanye West hands down. Walking non-hastily towards her MAJESTY office (she considers all people with higher ranks should be addressed that way because they way they act, they could give the Briton’s royalties a run for their money).
Upon entering the office, she recalled the number of times she was summoned to the office. One, for being 10 minutes late to the office for 3 days in a row (she was being called tardy and undisciplined. What about the extra 2 hours she stayed for the whole 3 months of the project? Guess Her Majesty had a memory of a golden fish, reminded her of that fish from Nemo). Two, she had a row with Her Majesty right hand man (a.k.a the world ultimate employer’s suck up) due to her action of not wanting to contribute in helping him arranging the Majesty’s sweet (more like grumpy) 40 birthday bash. When you are 40, unmarried and have a personality of a lion, you can only rely to those who worship you in order to get raise, allowances and maybe seize away the throne from you one day. But it’s a bargain to some people, who would scoop down to a level where their dignity is nearly non existent in order to get what they want. That second time she was being called rude and volatile (this came from someone whose shouts and screams could beat Mariah Carey’s six octave range). The other times were due to reasons she could not really defined but maybe due to hormonal imbalance the Majesty was experiencing during those times.
This time, she knows what she wants to say. She will say it loud and proud. She opens her mouth, after those times of being patient, as silence is virtue, she blurts it out, “I quit,” the same time she hears something impossible coming out from the Majesty shrilly voice, “I want to talk about your promotion.” “What??? What?? The ends from the two voices collide, creating the atmosphere of confusion. “You’re quitting??” “You want to promote me??” She tries to detract all her muscles back to its original location, to put on a straight face. “I was about to but not anymore of course. Andy was right. You give up too easily.” The face is as cold as the statement. Andy. The right man. The glory hunter. She should have seen that coming. Before opening up her mouth in protest, the Majesty shouts again, “Andy, darling, you’ve got the job! Reena gave up just like you say she would!”
Across the board, Andy, the busybody colleague and the tea lady, all having different reactions. Andy, with his devilish grin and satisfaction, the busybody colleague with I-told you-so look and the tea lady, with her sad eyes, the truly one person without the act of hypocrisy in the office.
She wants to say so many things out of rage, but all she does is stomp out the room, smash the door, took some things from her desk, hug the tea lady and give a stare she hope would pierce Andy’s heart and kill him on the spot. Walking out of the building, she felt both relief and regret. What if she didn’t say anything just now? She would get the promotion she had deserved, she could prove to the world that stays true to yourself paid off eventually but it didn’t happen. Real world sucks. And cruel. Putting back her headphones on, she listens to Jason Mraz Live High in hope of escaping the predicament she’s in.
And she’s off to the dreamland again.
Why I English
1 month ago
