Be it single and married, I am fully aware at a very ripe age of 38 that there are both pros and cons. Married people have companionship, either from spouse and kids, or either one (well, I just learnt another story from an old friend that her husband and her lived totally separate lives at home).

I am not going to lie. With the abundance of freedom at hand, I do feel lonely at times.

Very.

That sense of deep down sadness, loneliness does grab you tightly. It does.

This afternoon, while doing yoga at home, I actually could feel the loneliness resurfacing again. Towards the end of the yoga session, I teared.

Because I always locked myself in my bedroom and do yoga based on an online course, I have the space to weep quietly in that moment.

It was a very hot and sunny day. As I laid down in my savasana pose, I could see white clouds gathering and dry thunder sounds in a distance. From the bottom of my heart, I instinctively put my palms together, closed my eyes and sent a very sincere prayer to Buddha. After ending the practice, I gave three bows.

For the past 37 years, I always place career above everything else in my prayers.  I do feel lonely at times when I see couples together, but I never really pray sincerely for someone to appear in my life.

Today, I finally did with all my heart.

Because today, I really wish that for the next 30 years (assuming I lived till 70 years old and 4 years have passed beyond 35year mark) I will have someone beside me, holding my hands, for me to hug when I feel sad, and travel the world together.

I yearn for someone to live with me in my own small house. Whenever I open the door, I can see someone at home, or at least waiting for someone to come home if I am earlier. To cook and have meals together, to have a meaningful or engaging or relaxing conversation depending on mood of the day, to have someone to say good morning and good night on a daily basis.

I yearn to be able to hug someone when I have a bad day at home. Even as I try not to spread my negativity to him, at least I can hug him and feel better without mentioning a single word about work.

I yearn for someone to care about me, to text me if I want lunch, or to go home together (we don’t need to have a car – a bus or train ride together is fine with me).

I yearn for someone to go travel with, for me to share my travel experiences with him, as we explore places together, meet different and new people together.

Today, I do not know why, but I feel extremely lonely. 

Ever since my father passed away, I started working on getting back into the workforce for the past 3 months. The momentum of job application grew stronger as the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months.  I am craving to get back into the workforce on a permanent basis, and get cracking on churning out good projects to enhance my portfolio.
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One of the interviews that I got called for was with a government agency tasked to promote design in my country. I was excited because I felt strongly for the cause itself, especially since I am a freelancer at the moment and I could feel the pains of delivering creative works to painful clients.

However, after so many bad experiences with government officers, especially bitchy ones that loved to congregate within my field, I have learnt not to pin high hopes. The interview session comprised two parts: a 1-hour writing test and a panel interview with the hiring manager (I shall call her The Bitch) and the HR officer (I shall call her the Nice One).

The moment The Bitch waltzed into the office with her gaudy dressing – yes it was gaudy and looked like bedsheet – I knew the vibe was wrong. I caught a glimpse of a Caucasian husband/partner with her as her phone wallpaper and I knew I up against a Sarong Party Girl (Asian girl who loved to hang out with white men. In their eyes, only white men are the best accessories worthy to own) once again. I groaned inside my heart that this was a wasted interview but I had to complete it.
This lady looked at my resume and wanted me to introduce myself. Halfway through the interview, she questioned my knowledge about the agency. As a person with only private sector working experience, I gave her what I learnt about the organisation from the website and other background research. Although yes there was a typo error in my resume (which I rectified very quickly but alas this application was prior to my discovery of the mistake), I felt that she was being biased in checking my knowledge on the details of each department. If someone has not been exposed to that organization, it is common sensical and obviously biased to fault that interviewee on the lack of knowledge of the specific roles of each department. She also pointed out that I have little knowledge about the organization. The Nice One was quiet and was frequently asked if she has any questions.

Thankfully, somehow I managed to pry the information from her on the specific portfolio that this role entailed. The successful candidate (but rather unlucky, in my opinion) would need to publicise a series of education-related programmes, including scholarships. My heart sank.

WHAT KIND OF A RUBBISH PORTFOLIO IS THIS?

The agency prides itself on promoting design on a country level, yet it has done a shoddish job after 16 years.  Since its establishment, we are still not able to have a national identity, the level of design awareness and adoption is still ridiculously low.

The content on the website, blueprint and the releases says a lot and says nothing. There are plenty of words, conceptual words, that I have seen and called it “bullshitting” in my mind. In communications, yes the language is important, but communications is no longer deemed so important in marketing. Public relations professionals are now used to write executive communications (AKA write for the senior management) and for the employees (AKA write for HR on every single damn initiative that they wants to push). After leaving the building, I wrote an email to inform the recruiter that I was no longer pursuing this job (and of course I gave a diplomatic reason). 

I am so sick of communications as a professional career. When I first started this blog, I wanted to show the world that I could write. I really prized writing as a genuine gift. Don’t get me wrong, writing is still very important in today’s world, but like what one interviewer mentioned during interview, media relations/public relations does not generate results that impact the bottom line.

Communications has now been relegated to a support function, abused by many who simply get you to do their work because they can conveniently say: “My writing is not as good as yours.” Or “You are an expert in writing.”
Does that mean I have to write every single bloody notice on the employee notice board? Or write an email for you?

NO WAY!

I was grateful for this interview because the hiring manager revealed the bitchiness right from the start, told me the most pertinent information that made me lose my interest in the job right away, and prevented me from hoping for this role which would turn out to be another GREAT BIG DISAPPOINTMENT in the future.
So yeah lady, thanks for saving me from accepting a potential disaster, which I really do not need it right now.

If lady luck can stay with me this time round, hopefully I can make the switch back to marketing and learnt all the latest valuable skillsets that I need to prolong my career life! 

According to my family’s beliefs, a person will be lingering around for 49 days before he moves on to the next life. Hence, there are a few important dates that we keep in mind and pay our respects, for example, the 7th day, 21st day, 35th day and 49th day. On the 7th day, it is also commonly believed that your departed loved ones will return back home.

However, my father did not appear in any of our dreams on the 7th day. Nor any day.

Recently, I met my neighbor during one of my evening jogging sessions. She hemmed and hawed for a while before telling me that she smelled cigarette smoke on the 48th day after my father has passed away. The strangest thing was because no one, except my father, smoked along our floor. It was around noon that she smelled it.

I recalled there was a particular night when we smelled a very strong bad odour smell lingering in our house. It was late around 11pm and there was no one using toilet, nor anyone doing gardening and adding fertilizers. When my father was alive, we used to have such smells in our house, which thinking back was such a strong signal that his health was in a very bad shape.

This makes me wonder: did my father return?

I recalled once in the hospital I had a conversation with my father and he affirmed that his late brother appeared in his dreams one night. He wanted him to pass the messages to his family members. However, he said he was unable to enter his wife’s dream himself. 

Surprisingly, that very day (48th night) my sister dreamt of him sitting in the car with the whole family. It was like one of the usual family gatherings we used to have.

So, did my father really return on that day?