Can we go back in time and stay at Christmas, please? I did not step into 2020 thinking that I'd be returning to a financially troubled workplace after that long holiday, only to be offered a new position at a competitor's within the same month. I would then take that offer, watch all that drama unfold in the office while I serve my notice, hear about the emergence of the Wuhan virus, write about the first identified case in Malaysia, experience more shocking office drama; secretly relieved that I had a new workplace April onwards. Just for the record, there are a total of 5,532 confirmed cases in Malaysia as of today, with a total of 93 deaths. By mid March, the Malaysian government announced the Movement Control Order (MCO) - basically a lockdown, a law was drawn up and enforced to make sure that we stay at home, and flatten the Covid-19 curve, because by then, our numbers were driving up. A month from that, my new employer would cancel the legally-binding employment
I noticed that I'm only propelled to write when I'm unhappy, sad or desolate - basically whenever my heart is burdened by some of what life has thrown at me. That's one of the main reasons why I haven't been writing on here often in the recent years. I want to be remembered as this fresh-spirited, witty and uncomplicated narrator. But it's so hard to write about the jolly things in life when my mind is tangled up so much in a web of worries. I don't want sappy tales of my life floating about in the world wide web long after I'm gone. And yet, I find myself most comfortable indulging in unhappiness. Or rather it's easier to relate to conflicts, physical pain and loss than to all the other things that I should be happy about. Does that make any sense to you? Or is this mid-life crisis? Turned a year older about a month ago, and got a visit from this old friend.