I, ambitious wretch.

i discovered that i am a superficial career…person. now i lust after my ex-editor’s desk, it being my self-appointed sanctuary for a little while now. my own hub was cleaned free of countless unimaginable dirt, all right, but i still won’t leave THE desk, joking that i want to get the feel of it. a real wretch. i admit to getting all pretentious and pompous because i really like the idea of a bigger table, having enough space whenever i turn. it’s not about the position title, people. it’s about the space you own. your own domain. *evil grin*

seriously, as i tread the polluted streets of manila every night on my way home, i try to confirm with myself if i regret that i did not apply to fill in THE seat. there’s got to be a reason why i get all whiny inside with the thought of THE desk becoming occupied by someone else again. is it because i am slowly getting used to this temporary “filling in”? am i liking the power-tripping that goes with it, i.e., toying with who to forward what case, much to the dread of three wonderful people? the idea of having to give the “approval”, no matter how mundane the activity is? i still have roughly around 25 work days before THE space becomes unavailable–and only holy cows know until when it would stay that way. i thought, factors that led me to not go for THE desk are still on the horizon: frustrating office politics (lowlife style) and impending studies. nothing’s changed in that aspect, unless the very core of it did: i now want it. i can’t answer that now. and even if i do and it gears toward the “i want it after all” side…it’s too late. then again, no one knows. i may just be itching for a bigger work area, especially after seeing that someone has a rather big cube of his own. i’m a normal human being after all…salivating for what you saw that gave you a sudden envy rush without thinking ahead if it will fit you anyway.

for now, i am not to give up THE desk, no matter what they say. let me get tired of it until the first week of march. i will.

in addition, THE desk could help me reverse what could be a lasting impression. see, i think it was the third time this year (this early, yes) that our super publisher caught me yakking and yakking. he must be thinking, “this fat girl is not doing anything but yak.” well, it’s about one-third true. so apart from actually working more seriously (THE desk, remember, THE desk!), i resolve to carry a case file with me when i feel like blabbing to my staff. it’s a very professional way of making chismis during office hours. the ability to insert an office jargon as soon as the door opens is definitely an asset that should be honed for life.

 

already second in command, i should be satisfied, shouldn’t i? after all, i was offered to lead but turned it down. other openings are looming and i may need to do coin-tossing a hundred times before jumping into them. if the others won’t pay as much or better, and if i won’t have my version of THE desk, then i should just try to be happy where i am. see, it’s not about that dignity crap and fulfillment hullabaloos, really.

 

it’s about the MONEY and THE desk. *wipes drool*

 

i bet my emotional quotient dropped way too low tonight.

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