2025-02-05

Today is one of those days when work isn't just working. I have observed that since last week, I have been putting the most minimal effort I can give every single day. I can put the blame on the nonstop construction noises I have been hearing throughout the whole months but I know it's a convenient excuse to make my slacking more acceptable. So far, I don't think my low efforts are raising alarms in my manager's wild imagination because I think she would have already confronted me if that were the case. Though, to be honest, I also think that I don't have that much time before I get noticed.

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I feel like these past few days were all spent in low-spirits. I couldn't form more comprehensive thoughts the way I used to in previous weeks. I have some ideas in my head but I can't seem to put them together because of this fog in my mind. I am still trying to make sense what is this inhibition: guilt, shame, or pride? I feel like my reason and emotion are playing cat and mouse. So I am stuck and forced to face the void of unknowing and just waiting for the dust to settle. I am getting this familiar sense of dread, that is being crushed under the weight of the pressure to be productive. I would still like to practice in what I said here because I know that I am in this state of suspension and I am just here to bear it. But then again, the nagging voice of duty, because of what I just mentioned above, is about to raise red flags and endanger my performance at work. There is this sense that I must start to be active in processing this unknown or else I would take a hit. As much as I want to trust the process, I am starting to feel the world spinning faster underneath my feet. Time becomes less of a privilege and is becoming more of an enemy. These things I know to be false, but they know how to tug the strings of anxiety in my body.