I am simply not someone who can be married to my work.

It’s not that I do not enjoy my work. I do, but I also enjoy time with my family and friends, some “me” time, watching movies and TV shows, reading books, making stuff, amongst probably a hundred other things. I like to go for my routine yoga classes on Saturday mornings, grocery shopping with my family on a lazy weekend afternoon/evening, occasionally shopping on my own after work on a weekday, or listening to good live band music with a Corona in my hand with the girls on a Saturday night. I can read a protocol or two over the weekend, check work emails on a Sunday, but I simply cannot and will not allow my work to occupy my entire non-work days. The thought is just absolutely disgusting and unhealthy. Despite my unbalanced diet which revolves only around Seasons Ice Lemon Tea, I actually like to keep the rest of my life balanced. I need to keep that microgram of sanity within my cranium.

I certainly don’t mind being married to Johnny Depp or Daniel Henney, but that’s totally going off the tangent.

I don’t make work the centre of my life – wait, no one can – which is why I hate it when I get disturbed with work-related issues on my off days. Or even more preposterous, during my sick leave.

It leaves me to wonder which part of the word “sick” people do not understand. Is it the “s” or the “c”? “Sick” means cough, cough, sniff, sniff, ah-choo, popping pills, feeling drowsy, needing lots of bed rest, drinking plenty of fluids, seeing a doctor and that’s not just watching Patrick Dempsy on “Grey’s Anatomy”. “Sick” doesn’t mean “Yes, I am checking my emails right now! Wait, just give me a moment as I release my right hand off the mouse to stuff my running nose with tissue paper!” or “Yes, I’m going to submit the report this very moment! Never mind that my brain is so groggy from the medication and I cannot tell the letters apart.”

Next time I should just put my annual leave or sick leave as “Please kindly fuck off” days.  


Post-note: Sigh. Forgive my angst. I’m short-tempered in a totally unbashful, self-righteous way. I’m also physically sick and mentally stressed out by piling work from my new study. It is not certain whether I fell sick because of the stress or the physical unwell worsened the stress level.  I actually dreamt about my protocol numbers (each research study has a protocol number and I’ve three) that night. It would be better if I had dreamt of Toto or 4D numbers. That was when I realised that I truly need a good break. I need to be alone to read my new book, listen to radio, scribble in that lovely journal I bought some while ago but never have the time to do something with it. I need to stay away from that laptop, the emails, the handphone, the colleagues and the boss.

Work is the curse of the drinking classes.
– Oscar Wilde, In Life of Oscar Wilde, H. Pearson