Dumping ground

My room becomes a dumping ground towards the end of the week: clothes are lying all over the floor, handbags are half-in and half-out of the draw, make-ups are box-up on the dresser table, the rubbish bin is full, … I feel tired and lazy to keep things in order after a day’s busy work. It is real work, not like in slacking around in the Optus times. Although I am trying to leave before 7pm every day, still, the pressure is on and I am starting taking up more account works gradually. The bottom line is, I won’t trade in my health for the work.

Basically my work is to read and monitor my account’s news on newspapers in the morning, pitch our story to the Junos, research answers to email interviews, sometimes I also have to have my hand in events. Event is no longer my things, as it is such a low end work that I would rather outsource it to event companies. There are three of us as graduate trainees, one is allocated to assist a workaholic oldfangled woman, another one spends half of his day monitoring news and the rest liaising with demanding clients doing minimal work. I am banished to a Siberian corner, where is cold and lonely, but am assisting an associate who is my senior from my course from Melbourne Uni - the world is a small village. Following her will definitely have a better life than the other two. We will see what we will become in another six months. Yet, I can’t understand how people can stand that they have to work as late as 9ish at night weeks after weeks. Obviously, I can’t live like that when I am 40 plus.

My monthly budget has almost been blowed up by today. Not only that I spend more but I earn less. If I don't control my spending habit, I will never save up to go to Penang, or Rendang Island, or even a cheap cheap Kayaking trip.