Aya

Such a disgusting topic but I’m getting it out of my system before the new year begins.

Money is at the center of most daily anxieties for me.  It’s not that I make too little or too much (is there such a thing?).  I just don’t want to squeeze the rest of my life into 2 hours per evening and laundry on the weekend. 

I think I got myself into a mess buying this condo.  Real estate is shit now and my work is not guaranteed beyond the coming few months.  This means that I may have to move in search of more work.

But then what?  Another job?  I’m not opposed to working, I love what I do, I just can’t fit the other things I love to do into my 60+ hour weeks.  Paying off student loans was a major motivator and now that it is almost paid off, I simply can’t spend 10 hours in the office and 2 hours commuting while taking a bunch of files home every Friday.  WTF? 

Am I the only one who feels like day-to-day drudgery will just about wipe out any dreams and health you have?   I don’t want to be suckererd into the retirement thinking that workers the world over have been programmed to do.  Yes, savings are important but good health and some sanity will be nice too. 

I have this sneaking feeling that if I don’t plan to go after my dreams now and take some concrete steps, the only thing I will know how to do is draw a biweekly check and wait for my boss to leave so I could leave too.  Oh, the misery of it all!

Okay, that is out of my system.  Whew!  It was backing me up, dammit. 

What are you people planning for the New Year? 

These are expensive things I shouldn’t buy:

1. A camera (Canon 40D).

2. Hardwood flooring for the rest of the apartment.

3. A baby carriage for a friend having a baby half way across the world.  Why couldn’t she pop the little bastard in New York?

But I am going to buy them anyway.  Blah.  I don’t how people who spend money like movie stars do it.  I’m feeling physical pain at the thought of buying anything. 

EID MUBARAK, people! Blessed wishes from your neighbourhood blogger friend.

 If you have left-over meat from the feasts in your fridge, put your grubby little nomad fingers in your pocket and resist clogging your heart more. 

So what do I know about men so far?

Probably enough to fill a sticky note (small size) but here goes 1 or 2 insights:

1. Just another dude.

I spent about 3 hours Sunday afternoon working on last minute documents with my boss who brought along his 4-year old boy. In general, I have no patience for little ones in the office, especially when a male employee hopes a coworker’s womanly skills would kick in and give him a few hours of peace.

I was okay with this boy because his Swedish father has that no-nonsense thing that Europeans have with their children. None of that time-outs and whiny pleases to a toddler. However, something happened that lead the two men (1 and a quarter man) fight over a chair near the window.

You’d think the father would let the boy sit and just grab another, or put him on his lap or something. Nope. They begin a shoving match, an earnest shoving match, that has the father seeing red with anger and the boy screeching. WTF! Honestly, evolution needs a few more millennia to sort this little glitch out.

2. Groom everywhere but in a bathroom.

Okay, I can tolerate an occasional ass-picking, especially if in a crowded restaurant or elevator and you don’t think anyone notices. I can even tolerate fishing a stubborn piece of steak out of your front teeth. It is distracting to no end anyway.

But to meditate on a particularly interesting nose-dig, roll whatever you fish out between your fingers, stare at it with a mix of bemusement and pride, and then flick it to the side or wipe it on your pants? I’m sorry to say it, ma’am, but your son is a fucking animal and you should have been shot on the birthing bed when you brought him into our world.

3. Every moment threatens ego.

This is my advice to young guys in business. Sit still. No, no, I don’t mean to sit with a straight back and a stiff jaw like Donald Trump. I mean just SIT, say little, listen more, and most of all THINK before you speak. Don’t tell sexist, racist, xenophobic and/or homophobic jokes and for the love of all holy things, don’t quote Bill Gates, Michael Jordan, or mayor Guilliani.

Don’t interrupt people or pretend the women on your team (some of whom your seniors) don’t exist. People can see you for what you are and it is a fucking mess.  Can’t keep all that in mind? Here’s a simplified version: just shut your mouth.

Don’t worry, the women’s turn is next lest I be accused of discriminating against Olympic ass-pickers.