I entered the office this morning with a bit of anxiety from yesterday’s nerve racking shift. The kind of shift that will make you say “I love my job” just before you close your eyes in the night so you’ll wake up with a little bit of optimism to move forward and get through another day.
As my two colleagues came in the office, I started feeling dizzy. I started wanting to throw up.
There’s this heavy negative energy slowly settling in and taking over us.
Our office is composed of three desks, three chairs and three human beings, two trying to be politicians and one getting stuck in between.
I hate politics especially when the contenders of the game aren’t government officials. They should have applied for government posts instead of jobs in a hotel if they are into politics. It is easier to ignore Trump’s relentlessness than the brawl of the two people behind me.
I feel like a sandwich spread squeezed in between two loaves of bread. Not knowing which side to stick to, that’s if I could only choose but honestly, I couldn’t.
The worst that could ever happen to me is to be a witness to an unnecessary word war, a situation where I am left in an awkward moment, forced to pretend to be either a stapler or a lizard in the office.
But this doesn’t end here.
This war will go on and on and no one will back down till I guess, the moment of truth comes that either one of them arrives into mental and emotional devastation.
But then what else can I do? I can only wait for someone to drop the bomb for us to know whether the destruction is that of an atomic or nuclear explosion.
And when that time comes, nothing will be left of our office but three desks, three chairs and three human beings, trying to survive.