Never depend on another person for your happiness. If someone had the authority to give, then he or she had the authority to take away.
People are too focused on money. It’s supposed to be a tool, not the prize to be won.
Gosh, turns out finding a place to stay is not easy, isn’t it? I thought it was going to be clickety clack and voila, here’s your new home in Bogota!
So not like that.
I’ve surfed the web trying to find a nice apartment to rent. I’m easy to please, I don’t want much. I just need a nice apartment, preferably one bedroom (as I hate cleaning), clean, safe, and fairly close to work. I did found quite a number of them, but there’s always that deal breaker thing. I’ve been in Bogota for close to two months, I really need to found a place, SOON!
First apartment, the cozy neighbourhood.
The first apartment was nice, cozy, and in a quiet neighbourhood that I like very much. The rent is affordable and although it has two bedrooms (one bedroom too many for someone who lives alone like me), it wasn’t a deal breaker as I could use the extra room to invite friends to stay over on the weekend. But, see, the apartment is dead far from work. And I mean, proper far. Even on the best of days, it’ll take me 30 minutes to work, imagine during rush hour!! I can’t.
Second apartment, the perfect apartment.
The second apartment was by far my favourite one. It’s affordable, it has one bedroom, but its living area is still big and it has this super nice nook that I already had in mind was going to be my reading nook. It was perfect. Might I say, it was the best I’ve ever seen. Problem is, the landlord ask for a three months deposit!! Get the fuck out! How am I suppose to make money that quickly?? Three months deposit?? Might as well buy the whole apartment, mate.
Third apartment, the nice and friendly owner.
The third apartment is quite alright. Pretty small but it has two bedrooms (well, technically one, because the other one is used as a working room) and has quite a nice view thanks to its big window. The dealbreaker? The owner wants me to rent the place along with her stuff, which is fine but then the rent became twice the asking price. And when I told her I won’t be renting the place with her stuff, she said she would need two weeks to empty the place, but I need the place by next week and it was non negotiable.
Fourth apartment, the very accommodating owner.
The fourth apartment was also nice. It has two bedrooms, and what I love the most was the vintage looking bathroom. The place is also well lit from the sun, so it was perfect. The owner was very accommodating, they were willing to renovate some areas if I need it be. So, what’s the deal breaker? The place is far from public services, like supermarket, drug store, and the whatnots.
Fifth apartment, the nice and cozy place.
The fifth apartment is by far one of my favourites too. It’s a one bedroom apartment but very well lit, and also very cheap as my friend knew the landlady. The deal breaker? It has this weird ass shape that looks extremely tacky and vintage (not the good ones) design on its ceiling, which are made by drywall (I’m guessing). I asked if that can be taken off, and the landlady said that it was impossible. WHYYYY?? I mean, this place was literally one of the best place I’ve seen. It has a gym and a sauna, all free for its tenants!!! Why must you have those tacky design on your ceiling??
Sixth apartment, the newly renovated one.
The sixth apartment was alright. I don’t really like it because the building is quite old, but the units that I was seeing was just freshly renovated, so it wasn’t a problem; besides it’s cheap af. Problem is, it has three bedrooms!! What the fuck am I suppose to do with the other two bedrooms? Rent it on Airbnb?? Get real! I don’t like living with strangers, why am I volunteering to take strangers in now?
Seventh apartment, the (also) newly renovated one.
The seventh apartment was literally next to sixth apartment. It’s a one bedroom apartment. Just freshly renovated too. Quite like it. Problem is, it only has one bathroom, which means guests will be using the same bathroom as me which I’m not very keen about. The second problem is it doesn’t use gas for its stove. I can’t imagine cooking with an electric stove, I’m already imagining my electric bill.
Eight apartment, the well lit one.
The eight apartment was just the next building to the building where the sixth and seventh in. It’s pretty old, and I mean old (not vintage old, or deliberately designed to look old, it’s just OLD) but I ain’t complaining because it has very nice natural light. Problem is? It wants me to have a guarantor. It’s not like no one is going to to guarantee for me, problem is I’m only here for three years and I don’t know Colombians who would be willing to be my guarantor. When I asked if my office can be my guarantor, the owner said it can’t be an office, it has to be a human being.
That being said, I will be seeing three more apartments tomorrow. Wish me luck!
A shared history does not entitle you to a future..
One of the definition for job that I found in Merriam Webster was, a regular remunerative position, or a specific duty, role, or function. Whilst one of the definition for career that I found in Merriam Webster was, a field for or pursuit of consecutive progressive achievement especially in public, professional, or business life. That being said, is job and career one and the same? I genuinely think it’s not, but often times people use the words interchangeably. I am guilty of this mistake too, one too many times.
I have a job, but do I automatically have a career? I don’t know.
Flashback to several years ago, I said that I don’t want my job to define who I am. Who I am as a human being is not the same as who I am when I am doing my job, that much is the same for my career. Whatever career that I am building up right now shall not define who I am. But, sometimes it gets hard to distinguish who you are amongst the three.
I have a job because I oddly believes that it is what is expected of me, also I need to pay the bills.
I tried nailing the best job I could find. And by best, I meant the kind of job that requires less drama but pays quite nicely. I’m not sure if my job falls into that category, but after devoting six years of my life in that line of work, it’s kinda hard to want to play with fire and try to find another job. Call me a coward, but I ain’t playing with my bank account just for the sake of living outside of my comfort zones.
Do I have to change who I am, what I like, what I hate, the way I talk, the way I dress because of my job?
I certainly don’t think so, but somehow there are moments where I am not who I am and I pretend to be a completely different person, just so I can save my own ass, by extension saving my job so as not to get fired or be in some kind of pickle.
I don’t know. It was like an instinct. Like when your gut feeling is telling you to not walk alone in the dark. It’s an instant thing, I don’t even have a second to think about how hypocritical of me to fake niceties with people I couldn’t even stand given a different situation.
But most of all, what I don’t understand is, to what extent do I have to do something to be considered that it is a part of doing my job?
There are moments where I asked myself, am I doing my job when I’m doing this? Is this even part of my job description? And if it’s not, why the fuck am I doing this?
Oh right, because if I don’t do it, I’ll be taken as going against the boss’ order.
Why do I even have job if I’m so miserable? I don’t even care about career. I’m only doing this for the money, but how pathetic is it to be controlled by money that I sometimes am willing to be insulted and abused in the name of doing-my-job? Man, I wish I had answers to these questions, because then maybe I would be brave enough to say that enough is enough and walk away from it all without regrets.
August was definitely like a blur. I know I’ve used the term ‘blur’ quite a number of times, but I think August fits the bill as being the month that is a blur to me.
I feel like I have travelled halfway across the world..
..and maybe I did. One day I woke up in the basking sweat of Jakarta. The next time I went to sleep, I woke up to the sunny and intimidating sun of Amsterdam. The next time I went to sleep again, I woke up to the chilly and sunless sky of Bogota. How do you collect the scattering thoughts you have and compile it into one single post when I still can’t comprehend that I am now halfway across the world from all things familiar?
I feel homesick but I am technically homeless..
..much like where I was back in the beginning of 2017. I was in Abuja feeling homesick but I am homeless. Cut to August, and I am back to square one. I had missed my home and I am homeless. How am I suppose to pour down what I feel when I am overcome with thoughts of missing my home?
I feel alone in a sea of smiles..
..and whilst it sounded like what a teenage girl would write, it is indeed what I’ve felt for the better part of August. Day in and day out, I’ve passed it with a smile that is so strain that by the end of the day, I feel like I have pulled a muscle on my face. I was smiling when my heart felt so alone and isolated. How do I write about these lonesome feelings, when I have to be strong the next day?
I feel lost..
..and indeed I am lost. I questioned everything that had happened, that is happening, and that will happen. Was it everything I had hoped for? Was it everything I had planned for? Who can say for sure?
I feel like 35 months is a long way to go.
Fifty leading writers retell myths from around the world in this dazzling follow-up to the bestselling My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me.
Icarus flies once more. Aztec jaguar gods again stalk the earth. An American soldier designs a new kind of Trojan horse—his cremains in a bullet. Here, in beguiling guise, are your favorite mythological figures alongside characters from Indian, Punjabi, Inuit, and other traditions.
Aimee Bender retells the myth of the Titans.
Elizabeth McCracken retells the myth of Lamia, the child-eating mistress of Zeus.
Madeline Miller retells the myth of Galatea.
Kevin Wilson retells the myth of Phaeton, from Ovid’s Metamorphoses.
Emma Straub and Peter Straub retell the myth of Persephone.
Heidi Julavits retells the myth of Orpheus and Euridice.
Ron Currie, Jr. retells the myth of Dedalus.
Maile Meloy retells the myth of Demeter.
Zachary Mason retells the myth of Narcissus.
Joy Williams retells the myth of Argos, Odysseus’ dog.