The food hurdle

In the past, when people ask me what I do for a living, I always have to attach a long explanation to my reply of "research assistant" because I don't research--I meddle in editorial work. At last I've resolved that incongruity by joining a publishing company. Hello, I'm an editor.

The process of moving on to a new workplace has been a long one, somewhat less terrifying, but rather harder than I anticipated. But I can hardly complain because I had plenty of time to mentally prepare myself and say bye-byes. After the numerous farewell lunches and messages and thank-you cards and presents, I felt slightly weary, emotionally.

For people who change jobs on a regular basis, I must seem like a bleeding heart. Well I don't quite understand why it has to be so hard for me too, except that the research centre is just too comfortable, and therefore difficult to leave. The people are exceptionally helpful (and smart), the work was stable, culture was free 'n' easy aussie-style, and food was plentiful. There was just this little problem of my "career" and "professional growth" stagnating.

The new place needs a bit of getting used to. New colleagues are typically overworked Singaporeans--need time to open up. I needed to be reminded of this obvious fact after 3 years of general affability. I have to get used to the unsmiling part too.

I was quite excited about the job scope though: it was exactly what I wanted to learn, although I realise that my work would actually be quite mechanical, seeing a book through all stages of production. I can imagine anyone in India doing the job equally well (i.e., not outsource-proof, but which job is, anyway?)

I was complaining to friends about the lack of culinary choices due to our remote location: most people bring their own food, or they order in, but there're only 2 (unhealthy) choices everyday! After 2 days of sandwiches, I decided to cook some instant noodles and was I grateful for eating something hot at long last, even if it was just a handful of precooked noodles and dried peas swimming in watery, MSG-flavoured soup. I was feeling very sorry for myself, after being so spoilt for choice, with the numerous canteens dotted around the campus.

The next day, I ordered in and it was mixed rice: lots of white rice with a small piece of omelette, some tofu, vegetable, and a thin slice of very tough meat. As I told Hong, it felt like I was eating lao fan (prison rice). Just earlier in the morning, my former colleague was still raving to me about the fantastic food they had at the post-conference appreciation dinner. Oh, the indignity!

I get the feeling that once I get past this hang-up about food, things should start to look up. In the meantime, I'm going to feast this weekend.

Reminiscences

I'm supposed to be churning out a report by next Monday about the journal that I've been managing but it's not any easy report and I don't feel like starting.

Anyway, just came back from a night out with the gals. So fast, but we've known each other for more than 10 years. Over coffee, we were reminiscing about our school days happily, now that we can look back on the horrors and tedium of those days from a safe distance: how teachers used to terrorise us, how we dreaded art and music lessons, snooty classmates, our grades and (non)aspirations, and fights that we had with each other.

It's curious how we became good friends: I think some of the bonding came from simply being close to each other during assembly, or chemistry class etc since they went by alphabetical order in those days and 4 out of 5 of us have a T surname .

It feels nice, and safe to have a bunch of friends who have a shared history. I have periods in my life whereby my memory is quite patchy, sometimes because I didn't want to remember. There're so many things that I forgot, and to hear about them again from friends now and to be jolted and remember all over again, I feel thankful. I feel like my memories would be safe with them. Nothing beats old friends. :)