I remember what it felt like to lose my mojo, and I definitely remember what being at the peak of my performance felt like. But the state I was in for the past two months felt like a whole new, unfamiliar level of mojo-losing-incredibly-hardpressed-and-unmotivated state of mind.

I’ve been where I am for a good seven years now. It first started as a part-time job, which continued as a college internship, and then a full-time hire offer. Seven years is no child’s play, and it always is a mix of job perks, company loyalty and passion for the job that people would often ‘suggest’ as reasons to my staying, for a good seven years.

Perhaps I have said this in one post or another of mine – I enjoy what I do, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say I love it. Well, at least not anymore.

In the recent years, I have mentioned of moving on, or away, from this place. But it never really stuck. It felt more like a rant, a rage, a temporary moment of anger and bad decisions lumped in one. About a couple of weeks back, I was offered a job as a copywriter – and to be frank, it’s not a job I’m entirely keen on, but it felt more like something I needed than something I should even consider wanting or not. It was then that I realised I really just want out.

The past two months were a nasty clash of deadlines and everything else imaginable – from travel schedules, to bad decisions, and funerals. It was overwhelming, but more depressing than the crazy deadlines had to be having a boss who thinks she knows best. From job hires to job allocations, travel schedules to problem solving skills, she is a heap of bad decisions and rash reactions. I don’t say this out of spite, but just as is. A lot of work gets unnecessarily doubled up, rejected with no further direction, assigned with no proper brief or account, all because she always has to have the last say. She’s a god when it comes to pretty things, which is absolutely good. We all love us some pretty things every damn time. But pretty things that look good and don’t fulfil its purpose is utter rubbish, if I may say, which is what most of our jobs are – pretty but useless, taking pretty useless almost too literal.

I always thought I had to bring the change that I wanted to see in my workplace, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. As harsh as it sounds, this place rejects change with all it’s got. It is absolutely contented with the standards it’s got, the wonky work system it employs, and the crippling work culture that it nurtures. No good amount of creativity can and will come from this place. This place is stale and stagnant, almost dead of its creativity. And I hate it.

It’s easy to just throw the ‘pack and leave’ card on the table, but calling it quits is yet another major problem. No one person who has left this company has had it easy, not with my boss. Four designers have left since I started with this company. The first was ostracized until recent years for ‘wanting a change of environment’, the second was labelled domesticated and unambitious for ‘wanting to marry, have kids and move to a different state’, the third was called a spoilt brat for ‘wanting a change of work culture’ and for using the magazine as her portfolio (which doesn’t even make sense because the designer was really only showcasing works of hers that were legit), and the last was only recently served a legal warning for posting our magazine pages as part of her online portfolio (which equally doesn’t make sense because she really did work on them), which needless to say, got her frantically removing them almost immediately.

Whether you quit, or you get asked to leave, either way it’s not going to go down well.

It’s sad (or pathetic, whichever) when someone of such a notable position is unable to be the bigger person, even in situations that do not call for any party to feel inadequate, intimidated or challenged. I don’t get it.

Is this what they call ‘office politics’? Good Lord, I hate it.

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