I've made up my mind

Thursday, 5 March 2009 @ 2.19pm

I’m good at what I do. But this is not who I am. I’m contemplating leaving. But I have to stay. But is the money really worth it anymore? I cannot continue with this job anymore. I cannot do it. Not just for the sake of the money. But I have payments to make. Commitments that requires and justifies my reasons for staying.

I’m not giving it my all. I’m upset and unhappy. I’m don’t work ethically anymore. I’m just working so that at the end of the month, I get the cash to pay the bills. It’s not worth it. The stress, the clients, the chasing for quotations. I’ve been dumbed down.

I’m a useless piece of nothing here. And I cannot continue lying to myself. This morning my client asked me, ‘what’s your role? Are you in creative? Or a writer? Or accounts? What role do you play?’ I answer, ‘servicing’.

Servicing. That’s what I’ve been dumbed down to. I’m now in servicing. I service clients. I’m not worth creative input. Nor am I worth a say for the writers. I’m just there to make sure that everyone is in line with each other. The link between designers and writers, and client and company.

I am so unhappy. I’m depressed. And I think my bosses know. I’m not working as hard as I should. I’m just doing what I have to do so they’ll shut up. I’m finding every excuse not to come in to work.

I’m selling my soul. I’m being abused by my clients. Abused by my bosses. Abused by my peers. All because I’m not working ethically. All because I’m not happy. All because of the job. I’m not an AE. I can do the job. I can ‘service’ clients (I sound like a whore). But I’m miserable.

I watched House a few weeks ago. The episode was about this actor who was playing a doctor on a soap opera. He was brought in as a ‘real life’ patient because there was some problem or rather with him. The doctors who were administering him were commenting on what a cool job he had as an actor. But the actor said he was miserable because at the end of the day, he’ll go home feeling empty. And that the doctors who were administering him were the only ones who should feel good for themselves because they were doing something good.

I understand how the actor feels. I understand his misery. It doesn’t matter how much you get paid. It just matters that you’re doing something worth a damn. I’m not doing anything worth a damn. I’m a ‘link’. That’s all. I’m only needed if…a designer needs help looking for images, or if a client calls to comment, or if a client has a new job to brief me, or if I have to deliver a CD or colour proof. The rest of the time, I’m looking through yesterday’s newspapers to file any adverts worth keeping. Or chasing designers so I can email over the visual. Or chasing my boss to issue a quotation.

I cannot do this anymore. I’m at the end of my rope. Today, I’m supposed to be servicing three clients (who are sitting in the conference room arguing with each other before finding reason to argue with me or my colleagues). Of the three, one was the more obnoxious, while one was the big brother to the obnoxious (who kept encouraging the little fucker to continue being obnoxious – hey asshole, just because you’ve been spoiled your whole life doesn’t mean that you can continue your bratty behaviour now). And the final one was the mediator. He didn’t want to upset his colleagues (who sign his pay cheque), but he also understood where we were coming from and were trying to cool down the situation.

From 9.30am, I sat and listened and argued. And it was then that I realised that they don’t need me. Because I’m not interested. I’m wasting the company’s money. Someone else could be doing a better job than me.

When I first started, I thought that I just need to start getting used to it. Then I got used to it. And that’s when I realised that I’m not built for this job. I was hired because I can handle people and negotiate and sell. But when I started it, I realised that these are not the skills that I want to pursue. These skills are good to have and should never be forgotten. But I don’t want to just ‘service’. I don’t want to just help out. I want to be productive.

Since November 2008, I haven’t been very productive. I haven’t done anything worth a damn. And I feel useless. I’ve been putting in all my efforts as CSR at Get Crafty. So much so that my boss there wants me to write a manual to train other CSRs.

I’ve decided…I’m going to quit. It may not be a very smart move. But I’m calculating my finances now. I may not and probably will not get as much money as I am now. But I’d take that any day. I would rather feel productive and satisfied rather than useless and miserable.

I know this is going to cause some problems. I know money is going to be very tight. I know I’m not going to get a lot of support from many people. Especially my father. But I will do whatever it takes so I don’t feel like a miserable, useless, effortless nobody. Even if that means I have to become the unfriendly daughter/sister and stay in my room all the time. Or working at three part-time jobs. I’ve made up my mind. And I’m going to leave.