It's been a long time coming.

I haven’t worked for days. I was in the middle of work last Monday and found myself almost vomiting in front of the laptop. This feeling is familiar; I’ve felt it numerous times before. This is my body saying, 'Nope, we don’t like doing that anymore.'

Part of me envies the people who get to bag the loyalty award for staying in one place for so long. I loved this job. I enjoyed everything I was doing. I don’t talk to people; I don’t need to over-apologize for mistakes I didn’t make, and I was in front of numbers. I get to use Ctrl+H, Ctrl+G, Ctrl+F, C, V, and many others. I was having fun. Until I wasn’t.

The company started to micromanage me and started questioning how fast I do the job. I was an efficient worker because I am a lazy person, but all those efficiencies backfired on me because all the shortcuts I found to make the job easier are now making me get paid less. I tried working slowly, but that just fried my brain cells. Clearly, I reached the precipice, and the only option left is to jump off the cliff.

I know that, instead, for the past weeks, I've kept playing hide and seek. I asked around for any job openings that I might like and came across a woman who's stuck in a stressful job. I think I’d like to keep mine. I got into an interview as well, and it’s going to be an 8-hour job, and I’ll be required to be on Discord all throughout. It dawned on me that I won’t be dressed appropriately for the job since I'm alone with the dogs; I only wear the tiniest clothes, sometimes even just my birthday suit. I know it’s not a 'fuck yes' from me, and it’s cool that I haven’t heard from them yet, after my interview last week. I still sent them a courtesy email today to check the status of my application.

This job used to feel like a stroke of luck laced in fairy dust almost two years ago, but now it feels like it needs a refill. It feels like the magic dust has been spread somewhere out there. There’s more to life than the Excel Sheets I frequently work on.

For the days I didn’t show up for work, I tried my best to show up for myself. I kept asking myself, what do I want to do in my life? If this were a book and I am an author, how will I close this chapter and what will the new chapter look and feel like?

I explored my talents. I made art and created artwork out of my days. I compiled the poems tucked away in my phone's Notes app. I would bike and pause when inspiration caught up between pedaling and catching my breath. I talked to the plants in my garden and visited the same spot by the nearby fishpond, resembling a hill near a forest. I walked the dogs, strolled on grass, swam in the sea, and even jumped from a parked boat by the shore with kids.

Every day when I wake up, I play a nursery rhyme laced with different words:

    Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,

    What the fuck do I want to do?

    God, it’s so hard to be multi-talented,

    I can’t choose which one to harvest.

I’ll be singing this song in my head, and it’ll be stuck there for hours. Today felt like the end of a bargain. The last reason I gave to my boss was I had food poisoning. I’m running out of lies and I still didn’t want to show up. So today, I meditated and prayed. My favorite worship song to listen to now is Lauren Daigle’s Rescue. I was sobbing, my hands clasped on each other, asking God: What do you want me to do in this lifetime?

My Zen Garden

He told me to wait; teaching me the virtue of patience. My body's rejection of work signals a dire need for a plot twist. After all, it’s in my astrology. It’s in my Human Design. Letting go will invite something greater to fill the void. Despite my uncertainties, I understand that faith often requires taking a leap into the unknown. Take the plunge. Or just like in Fight Club, I’m being asked to slide. 

I told God that in the absence of something to do, I will do my best to work on work, but I pleaded for a signier sign if he wants me to continue. After the meditation, I took my notebook and wrote down my daily non-negotiables. I already know them by heart, but some days, I don’t follow through. I have a whiteboard collecting dust somewhere on my table with these written down, but I wrote them again.

After jotting down my daily non-negotiables, I began working on compiling my poems. I managed to collect two poems, and I mustered the courage to start working when the WiFi stick unexpectedly stopped working. It wouldn't turn on. When it did, the lights flickered and turned off for a minute. When the lights turned back on, the WiFi stick failed again.

Now, if that isn’t a signier sign, I don’t know what is.

The path I'm meant to follow should flow effortlessly, without draining my energy or feeling like I’m feeding myself to the lions.

I sat down in front of the laptop again and allowed my fingers to play. Despite the uncertainty looming over the future, the rhythmic dance of my fingertips against the keys reassured me that this is the path I am to take now. The path I chose to not cross even if this is where I always find myself circling back to. In that moment, I realized that this has been the melody I've been searching for.