Urm…
OK. So now I've left the organization and am all alone. The day I left, it was Chap Goh Meh, and Eric had taken leave from work just to fetch me to the office and back home. He put a huge box of Kleenex in the back seat, and he was certain that I would burst out in tears.
'What makes you think I would cry?'
'Well, it's your first job, and I've seen people cry mah.'
'Uh.'
'I think you will cry.'
'I bet that I won't. I don't give a shit about things no more.'
'I bet the movie and lunch that you would.'
'Deal.'
I didn't cry. The day I said goodbye, I wrote four thank you cards to my immediate seniors (and the Managing Director), knocked on the doors and handed them my thanks and 'appreciation'. Although I'm not sure if the word ought to be placed within the inverted commas—after all, I did learn a great deal at Fajar the office. But the thought of leaving was welcoming, and the moment I left the premises, I felt wonderfully released and fresh… and knowing that I would be back on Friday (to deliver some agreements, for free, mind you), just made me realize that in this book business, you can't leave everything behind as you wish.
I'm starting work immediately though. It doesn't mean I'm not busy, or that I'm loitering around. I've got some books up my sleeves, and you'll see me crapping about horrid authors still. What to do? This is my rice bowl, so to speak. A girl's got to do, what a girl's got to do. Get it?
Aih. A toast to life. Or rather, the lack of it. Well. A toast to freedom, independency, and freelance jobs. And yes, if you need someone to help in some editing job, you know where to go. I think I can use some more petty cash.
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