I think I know what's the most frequently uttered word in my world now - its Bloomberg. New York's mayor must have his eyes twitch frequently throughout the day as millions upon millions of conversations speak his name.
One colleague sent out an email saying how despondent he was that he didn't seem to be adding value to his clients. His senior colleague had asked the client about him (who was assigned to cover the client) and the client had said...
Senior colleague: By the way, what do you think of D***?
Client: D***? Havent heard of it, whats the Bloomberg code?
Ouch.
Others frequently heard -
"WTF is wrong with the f***ing Bloomberg, its hanging, f***k f***k!!!"
"Get it from Bloomberg."
"My PT on Bloomberg is wrong!"
"Omg.. results out.. Bloomberg said so, look!!"
------------------
Wake me up when September ends. Or wait, wake me up after April 2011 ends.
Sitting in the car workshop lounge waiting for my car to get fixed - I think the fella finally gave in after months of putting off trips to the mechanic. Seeing my little Myvi being suspended in the air while the mechanics tinker with it.. and working via remote access.
Today's the last day of corporate reporting results for me; and then its off to Thailand The Land of Smiles for the long Merdeka weekend. Took me 5 minutes to pack, as I'm going there with a totally empty suitcase.
Am now a prepared Bangkok traveller after last year. Getting ready to take advantage of sellers desperate to be rid of wares after the major tourist pullout in 1H of this year. Or maybe not. We shall recky the area when we land.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
ive forgotten
I am most likely going out of my mind - its getting to the point where I consciously have to tell my mind not to go there.
But where's there?
There is where I start thinking my life is getting quite meaningless, chasing after something my ego thinks it needs - a stellar jetsetting career at the expense of relationships and sanity. There is where I realize I have serious control issues, and where I actually believe that if I stop moving, everything around me will collapse.
It's gotten to the point where I avoid anything that could trigger those thoughts on a deeper level. Maybe if I just hold out til the bonus next year, then I can quit and work on growing my soul.
But I am reading Eat, Pray, Love now (for somebody who doesn't touch self-helppy books with a ten foot pole, I'm one to talk) and it scares the living bejesus out of me that I find so much to describe myself to the point the book is peppered with dog ears.
There has been those moments - sweatily climbing up the higgledy piggledy steps near Stanley street on Hong Kong Island looking for a famed dessert place, walking briskly from client office to client office on 3 inch stilettos in Hong Kong's massive covered snaking overhead bridges, standing over the window overlooking Singapore's Marina Bay with the evening glow casting a low light on the spires of the financial district.
Those small portions of time I take for myself, eagerly clinging on to them with a soul so dry and thirsty that I sometimes have even forgotten how to secure moments with my own hands. The more reports I write, stocks I chase, clients I pitch to, day in day out over long corporate lunches, in glitzy offices to swanky lounges, I slowly forget how to..... write.
I've forgotten how to describe moments - they just pass by too fast. The fading thought that I once decided I wanted this - this mad kaleidoscopic rush - is surely but slowly losing its lustre.
But where's there?
There is where I start thinking my life is getting quite meaningless, chasing after something my ego thinks it needs - a stellar jetsetting career at the expense of relationships and sanity. There is where I realize I have serious control issues, and where I actually believe that if I stop moving, everything around me will collapse.
It's gotten to the point where I avoid anything that could trigger those thoughts on a deeper level. Maybe if I just hold out til the bonus next year, then I can quit and work on growing my soul.
But I am reading Eat, Pray, Love now (for somebody who doesn't touch self-helppy books with a ten foot pole, I'm one to talk) and it scares the living bejesus out of me that I find so much to describe myself to the point the book is peppered with dog ears.
There has been those moments - sweatily climbing up the higgledy piggledy steps near Stanley street on Hong Kong Island looking for a famed dessert place, walking briskly from client office to client office on 3 inch stilettos in Hong Kong's massive covered snaking overhead bridges, standing over the window overlooking Singapore's Marina Bay with the evening glow casting a low light on the spires of the financial district.
Those small portions of time I take for myself, eagerly clinging on to them with a soul so dry and thirsty that I sometimes have even forgotten how to secure moments with my own hands. The more reports I write, stocks I chase, clients I pitch to, day in day out over long corporate lunches, in glitzy offices to swanky lounges, I slowly forget how to..... write.
I've forgotten how to describe moments - they just pass by too fast. The fading thought that I once decided I wanted this - this mad kaleidoscopic rush - is surely but slowly losing its lustre.
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