Last Sunday, a friend BBMed me: “I finally convinced myself that I don’t need this stress. Not at this stage of my career and financial status, right?” My answer:
“No, I don’t think you convinced yourself. If it was a different company and if the work wasn’t as demanding and stressful, you’d be feeling and thinking differently. You would not want to pack up and leave. Well, that, among other developments in your life right now. Maybe, you’re seeing another direction in the horizon that you’re itching to fly to.”But if my friend was to BBM me that same message again, at this very moment, my answer would now be:
“Oh please. You? You pack your bags. You go to the US and live with me, living off your money without having the need to work. And here I am. Just like you, totally unhappy with work, with the people I work with, with life in general. And I can’t just pack up and leave. I don’t have enough money to live off on. Where will I go? Whom will I go to? How will I live? Now you tell me.”Mind you. I'm not mad at my friend. Far from it. Trapped. I am mad because I feel trapped. At least for now.
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