Welcome the Black Parade

Sunday, May 04, 2008 2:52 PM

Working pays well. But its tiring as hell. Working as a research analyst basically means conducting researches on listed companies from different industries and evaluating them on whether they are a good buy or not on the stock market.

Every morning at 5.45am, the routine starts by me applying pressure on the disable alarm button. Washing up and train rides ensue with entering the office at 7. Work comes along and before i know it, the stomach complains, sending acidic juices up my throat, craving for matter to digest on.

Lunch occurs alone with a time limit.

Hence i will walk aimlessly down the arcade, looking for any food interesting which catches my eye.

Finally, something made me look twice. I scurry behind a queue of office ladies and wait impatiently for my turn. I make my order stating the usual "no cucumber please auntie and chilli on the side thank you". I settle the plate and soup neatly on the tray and cautiously approach seats with no tissue paper or whatever reserving them (the typical kiasu attitude of Singaporean office ladies who are so possessive of their seats). I despise and curse under my breath as i walk around looking meticulously for a seat to rest my butt on.

After finding a spot, i dig in hungrily, looking around at the same time, envying how everyone is eating lunch in a group, engrossed in conversations while i subside in a corner like a ghost, with a refractive index of 1, the same color as air, devouring each mouthful with loneliness.

As i took the last spoon, i check the watch. 15 Min's left. I stroll to the drink store, pointing at a random can drink, paying it with loose change and sputtered a brisk thank you before heading back to the towering 27 floor building where more work awaits.

As the sliding door opens, i look straight at the lift landings and walk, chucking the can into a bin on the hall way. I tap the access card given, opening the door to hell as i go in. I hear the door close with a thud and i settle on the chair at my desk, embracing the chair handles and staring out of the window before continuing with my work.

Time passes slowly as i constantly open Google web pages for research, typing "hi" or "hey" to anyone online at the same time, desperately hoping for a reply to help pass time and obtain short-lived entertainment.

I suddenly see the task bar blinking. But to my dismay, the reply was a virus. "Check out my cool photos at http://www.ichecker.com". Closing it with angst, it could not have been worse. I spot the watch and stare at the minute hand approaching quarter to 6. Finally, the moment is about to arrive. I count down slowly but silently, staring at documents to reassure my boss i am still focused.

As 6 o'clock closes in, i sign out of the computer and make my way to somewhere lonely with bad memories of my saddening childhood and life. Home.

Its been this routine for the past 4 months. It was hard to adapt, but i got by.

I am just like a slave. Whatever the parents say, i do. I do not dare to ask, because of the past.

One day, I'll make it out alone and i will let out everything inside, evicting my wrath and suffering.

Till then i wait, patient like a lion staring at its prey.

I need a life.