My MacBook Pro stopped functioning.
It only took one week after I removed the keyboard cover and case.
It’s crazy how one thing can set off so much unpleasantness.
My work took a hit.
I’ve somehow drenched myself in pain and exhaustion. The water is my version of piping hot, so not really. I can barely breathe. It’s the reverse of how the water is at the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India. I visited in 2020 to celebrate my cousin’s wedding.
If you know me, I’m not a fan of India. It’s not a terrible place by any means; I’ve just grown up in such a westernized home that any sense of culture scares me. It was the most amazing trip; I had no issue rubbing this trip all over my brothers’ faces. They both declined.
I got to hang out with my Californian cousins, who you’d expect to be more adverse to India, but they’re far more cultured than I am. A complete diss to me, who has done nothing to closer myself to my religion. Especially considering I live in a predominately South Asian community. More on that some other time.
Back to the pain, I feel today. I’m burnt out. This feeling worries me because it’s a dark hole. You enter one way and are not provided instructions on how to get out. I just want to succeed so badly.
I’m here in the tub listening to Apple’s Spa/Meditation playlist. Greatly recommend. I’m staring at my screen, but otherwise, I’d be looking right up my shower tiles which have not experienced a transformation of any kind since being glued to the structure in ‘91. These 30-year old palettes have seen things.
Nonetheless, I can barely lift my eyes open.
Work means everything to me. It’s crazy to think that, but it does. For some people, it’s family; it’s love; for me, it’s work. I love my family more than anything (except Beyoncé, who I would happily replace all 1000 of tree peers with), but it’s my work that inflates my fulfillment and joy.
Don’t you hate when you can just feel the disappointment of your peers through Slack? This is not me. I am not this person that fails.
I had not taken a vacation since October 31st, when I first started my full-time job at a digital marketing agency. It’s not the job of my dreams by any means. But it’s the company of my dreams. It’s set by the beautiful beach and just a whole shitload of old white folk. I can compromise my dream for the people I work with. They’re gems, jewels and cubic zirconia. I am the Diamond bolted tightly to a 24k gold band.
Loss is scary. It’s fear-based, mentally-driven torture that just seeps deeply into your veins. I want so badly to be the humble soul, but I've worked so hard for success. I deserve every bit of this career. I worked my flat ass off to the bones to get to this point.