I am so frickin’ bored. All I do is sit around and wait for something to happen. Occasionally, a wrestling match breaks out between Carine and Ivan which makes for some entertainment. I am usually the referee which essentially equates to making lots of lewd jokes about both parties. I have been rewarded for my efforts with bruises on various parts of my anatomy. It’s amazing how violent some women can be.

If I’m lucky, some work comes in. Yesterday it was some “campaign”. “Campaign” in this agency really means a whole bunch of bloody eDMs and a slew of websites to link them to. Pfffffftt. And so I wrote and wrote and wrote. And then I edited and edited and edited. And this morning, I was told I’d left something out. Ah screw it.

But on to more serious matters. In between the writing and infinitely long lunch break yesterday, I tendered my resignation. It’s been in the pipeline for awhile though I thought I’d let the opportunity slip through my fingers when I bungled the interview. (“Er… I would like to do ATL at some point in my career.” “But we do mainly BTL!” “Ah…”) Still, they kept faith with me and I suppose I’ve gotta show them they made the right choice. I will do that by keeping religiously to the stated lunch hours.

It’s weird that the people around me seem more excited than I am by this job. I’ve had countless congrats and hi-fives and permutations of the phrase “lucky bastard” thrown at me in the past 48 hours so much so that I’ve started wondering if they’re all on crack. I mean, sure, the money’s good and there’ll be opportunities for travel but the job scope’s essentially rather boring i.e. how many direct mailers can I write before I start picking up relatively boisterous hobbies such as bonsai planting?

Still, I suppose it isn’t healthy to be a habitual pessimist. So yes, I am rather pleased with myself. Smirking is now something that I do at least twice a day, usually in between sniggers. It’s amazing how uplifting freedom can be.

I’ve got other things to worry about right now though. The CEO doesn’t seem too pleased that I’m leaving so I’ll probably be stuck with loads of shit jobs. I suppose he thinks that I’ve been rather ungrateful in making such a quick exit but it’s been one year since I started; I’ve paid my dues and now it’s time to move on. Surely he can understand that. Still, whether he wants to smile or cry or curse me to hell is his choice. Either way, I’ll be out of here in a month.