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I’d set a goal in 2017. By the end of the year, I wanted to be doing something worthwhile. In the materialistic sense, of course.
I haven’t been successful careerwise and financially. Compared to other guys at my age who have well-paying jobs, cars, family and kids.

I’d noticed how people often looked down on me condescendingly because of my humble status.
Interesting that for a lot of people, you’re a worthless good-for-nothing loser unless you work in some corporate setup, sit in a fucking office, pushing papers and yelling on the phone.

Humility is part of of my personality. I don’t see the need to brag about some mundane high fucking status, income, possessions etc.
Entering the corporate world has shown me just how selfish and self-centered human beings can really be.
Corporate slavery. I knew what it entailed before I stepped in.
Multiple cups of coffee, smoking cigarettes, lame gossip about your coworkers, restaurants and movies.

Of course I’m ageing; with time comes new responsibilities, less dependency and plans for the future.
I’d set a goal for myself. I wanted to sit down in an office, surrounded by a bunch of white-collared motherfuckers, and course through the year, curve a path for my career.

So I looked at the options. Went through the list of potential companies and see where I could fit in the best.
It all happened really fast, just a couple of weeks before my birthday.

I had applied for various positions in many companies online. Sent my CV and resume, filled in their applications forms, and waited.
I waited for 2 fucking years and not a single company called me back for an interview.
It really put a dent in my self-esteem.
What they wanted was several years of experience. What I wanted was to dive into the field, learn hands-on and be their valuable asset.

One call set the entire process in motion.
That’s all it took to get me hired.

Over 3 hours of interviewing at various levels.
I was honest. Stated what I was looking for, what I wanted, and how I could be useful to the company.
Didn’t need to go door to door asking for a fucking job.

I moved to the other side of the world. Switched continents. Changed timezones.
Different city. Working with different people. Dealing with different people. Not out of my comfort zone. But not something I’ve done before.
I’m getting an average of 5 hours of sleep everyday. But I can sleep for longer during the weekends.
I spend around 5 hours traveling to and fro.
Yes, it’s tough. But nobody said it was going to be easy.
I knew what I was signing up for.
And I know I can make it here.
The transition has been surprisingly smooth. Nothing traumatizing has happened yet.
My health is good. My stamina is good.

There’s performance evaluation, meeting targets and so on.
The usual corporate stuff.

Some coworkers have cast a shadow of doubt on my survival in the company.

I have a high endurance level motherfucker.
I’ve done the grind before.

My immediate team has been suprisingly friendly. They celebrated my birthday.
I’ve never celebrated my own birthday.
To see a bunch of random strangers more enthusiastic about my birthday was touching.
They’ve been quite helpful. Offered me free rides. Explained the corporate culture.
Very supportive as well. Motivated me when I was nervous.

The pay? It’s meagre. My expenses are more than my income. As I haven’t received my first paycheck, I’ve been depending on a very kind person to bear all my expenses. It’s not something I’m happy doing. But once I’ve reached stability, I will be able to repay my debts and even donate to others.
But I’m not doing this for the money.
When I will, the companies that didn’t offer me a job will be kissing my boots.
Yeah, I enjoy being underestimated. But when my pride gets hurt, I can accomplish more than a dozen of these motherfuckers.

This is just the beginning.
I’ve started at the bottom.
I’ll see you at the top.