I really have no idea

Friday Find(s): Hemingway App.

Life can be shitty, but for a serial complainer like yours truly, life is shitty most of the time. I can go on a full on rant about why life is shitty, but I’ll refrain it. What I’m trying to do right now is to find the smallest of joy in life’s shitty moments. I can’t promise that I’ll always found something, but when I do, it’ll go straight to Friday Find(s).

Every Friday, I’ll post about things that I’ve found in the past days that gave me joy to keep me going for another week. It could literally be anything. It could be something that you could enjoy, or just simply random things that’ll cause you to scrunch up your face and think, “that makes you happy? No wonder you think your life is shitty.”

Either way, I welcome you to have a glimpse of my life and the things that made me happy. At the end of each find, I’ll give a score of five grinning face emojis for the finds that made me extremely happy or stoked throughout the week, and one grinning face emoji for a so-so find.

Without further ado, this is my first entry on Friday Find(s).

Continue reading “Friday Find(s): Hemingway App.”

I really have no idea

The things I don’t understand about having a job.

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.

I really have no idea

Liburan Hipster, bagian kedua

Setelah menunda karena malas yang tergolong akut dan kesibukan yang sebetulnya nggak sibuk banget tapi biar keren jadi bilang saja saya memang sibuk, akhirnya terkumpul juga semangat untuk menulis bagian kedua dari liburan hipster RAM dan saya (nyatanya mengumpulkan semangat saja udah lebih susah daripada menulisnya). Without further ado, ini bagian kedua! Continue reading “Liburan Hipster, bagian kedua”

I really have no idea

Liburan Hipster, bagian pertama.

Catatan: Sesungguhnya masih nggak yakin apakah saya bisa menulis dalam bahasa Indonesia, tapi kalau nggak dicoba ya nggak bakal tahu juga hasilnya gimana.

Alkisah saya dan RAM memutuskan untuk liburan pada penghujung tahun ini, selain karena saya sudah keburu ambil cuti tahunan dan bakal rugi banget kalau nggak dipakai untuk jalan-jalan, saya dan RAM juga pengen liburan ala-ala (sungguh, saya nggak mau banget menyebut liburan kami sebagai bulan madu, genggeus pakai banget, asli!). Berhubung kami anaknya nggak mau rugi (saya sih sebetulnya yang nggak  mau rugi serta pemalas total), kami sepakat untuk liburan ke Bandung. Hasil diskusi panjang lebar dengan teman saya yang sudah berdomisili di Bandung sejak beberapa tahun yang lalu (code name beliau adalah Kach), saya memutuskan minta tolong Kach untuk dibuatkan itinerary liburan Hipster. Saya mau nginep dan makan di tempat yang lagi hits di kalangan kawula muda Bandung (tapi ada disclaimer penting, saya nggak mau di tempat yang banyak dedek-dedek gemes). Nah, postingan berseri ini adalah pengalaman dan sekelumit review saya. Jom lah!

Continue reading “Liburan Hipster, bagian pertama.”

I really have no idea

dilchh writes in Bahasa Indonesia

Saya itu orang Indonesia, bahasa pertama saya (kayaknya sih) bahasa Indonesia. Mengenai bahasa pertama saya bahasa Indonesia apa bukan itu sebetulnya debatable, karena bisa jadi bahasa pertama saya adalah bahasa Indonesia yang sok lucu ala-ala orang tua kalau ngomong sama bayi. Intinya, sebagai orang Indonesia yang kebetulan suka menulis (meskipun isi tulisan lebih banyak yang ngawur daripada yang bener), saya pengen bisa menulis pakai bahasa Indonesia. Masalahnya adalah, pas dicoba kok malah malu sendiri yah? Kayak bukan diri sendiri gitu.

Setelah menimbang kurang dan lebihnya seandainya saya menulis dalam bahasa Indonesia, saya putuskan untuk tetap mencoba menulis dalam bahasa Indonesia, meskipun (1) mungkin nggak lebih sering dari menulis pakai bahasa Inggris, (2) lebih besar kemungkinan saya menulis tidak dalam bahasa Indonesia yang baik dan benar, (3) dan tentunya masih ada bahasa Inggris yang nyempil.

Mungkin dalam beberapa hari ke depan saya akan mulai menyusun postingan blog pertama saya yang isinya soal laporan liburan hipster saya. Sejujurnya ide yang akhirnya memaksa saya untuk berani nulis pakai bahasa Indonesia adalah pengalaman liburan hipster saya kemarin yang pengen banget saya bagikan di blog, tapi kayaknya meuni susah nulis pakai bahasa Inggris, kayak nggak dapet feel-nya gitu (alesan aja sih, aslinya emang males mikir pakai bahasa Inggris).

I really have no idea

Is it really April?

You guys!!! It’s April! Well, actually we’ve already five days into April, so my utter surprise is completely unnecessary. Anyway, I’m on another business trip since yesterday. I’ll be in Makassar, South Sulawesi, until Friday. In the meantime, I’ve finished My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman. Whoa!!! That book is one crazy ride for me. Stick around for my complete review. I can’t promise I’ll be writing any reviews while I’m here because I have series of meeting to attend to and not to mention, reports to write about.

Also, seriously, April? Really? The fourth month already? Why am I getting the feel that 2016 is in such a hurry to turn into 2017? Man, time really does fly. I just wished I had been able to do some other stuff in between. In the mean time, enjoy Spring and watch flower blooms, if you’re lucky enough. Adios!

I really have no idea

Hell will freeze over before you see me doing that again.

A conversation with oneself in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Never Again.

“Have you ever gone to a new place or tried a new experience and thought to yourself, I’m never doing that again!”

“Let’s see. I don’t think I have.”

“I call bull on that. There has to be, right? Are you seriously telling me that you really never gone to a new place or tried a new experience and thought about not doing it again?”

“Obviously I’ve been to new places and/or tried new experiences, but I don’t think it was something that I would not do again.”

“Let’s try this one more time. Are you sure? Are you seriously telling me that thats is your true and final answer? There is no way someone as cynical, sarcastic and pessimistic as you are never thought about something remotely close to not wanting to do something again. Not to mention, we both know that you don’t like to try new things.”

“Sweetheart, that’s where you are wrong. It’s not that I don’t like to try new things. I am just reluctant to change.”

“Focus, please. Are you sure?”

“Sure! Truthfully, not all the places that I have been to have been lollipops and rainbows, but it’s not something so bad so as to make me think I would not want to go there again. I like to think I’m one those privileged people that had the chance to explore the world. What’s so bad about being able to go places, although it might not be the best of experience, that I had to not want to go there again?”

“What did you have for breakfast? Why are you somewhat wise today?”

“Now, Lady, you are just plain hallucinating. I’m not wise. I’m just being honest. How many people get the same opportunity as I am to travel to new places? Plenty, obviously, but there is plenty of other people at the other end of the line. I don’t think it’s favourable for me if I’m complaining or act like an ungrateful prick just ’cause of one bad trip.”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“No. You know I sleep like a dead man in a coffin. I don’t move around when I sleep.”

“Yeah I know that. It’s just that the answer doesn’t sound like you. But, maybe you have grown up. I guess.”

“Wait! On second thought there’s this one thing I did that I would not want to do it again. I ate a crocodile meat once. For some reason, I thought it was chicken. Don’t ask how. Point is, I ate that crocodile meat and it’s the saltiest thing I’ve eaten, by far! I don’t regret the experience, because it made a great ice breaker, but hell will freeze over before I have to eat another crocodile meat. Wait, or was that alligator meat? What’s the difference between alligator and crocodile?”

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