Saturday, September 11, 2004

In the Name of Duty

There are times when I wish I don't have any conscience. It's a self-righteous feeling that keeps on bugging you and won't give you any peace until you've done what you're supposed to do. In my case, until I've done what I'm supposed to do PERFECTLY.

Last night, I left my office at 8.30 p.m. after I've ensured that a plan that is supposed to be carried out sometime around 2.30 a.m. this morning, has been communicated to all relevant parties. A senior manager told me, 'You should be there too.' I stared in horror at him.

E-llo? My offer letter stated 'Working hour: 9.00 a.m. to 5.30 a.m.' For the past two weeks, I've allowed my company to steal two extra hours of my non-working hour to complete an urgent deadline. Asking me to come to office at 2.30 a.m?? Waah, there ought to be a line drawn between commitment and slavery. I'm no slave. I'm just a worker. A conscientious worker.

Nonetheless, at 7.30 a.m. in the morning (this morning), I turned up at my office. Half-frozen from the chilling journey on a bike to work, I stepped into the air-conditioned building and spotted the videographers and photographers that I was supposed to meet. They were having a cuppa coffee. Blessed them. At least they know it's breakfast time. I haven't had breakfast for ages.

I spent the day accompanying them around the premise to take photos and video, trying hard not to yawn. After everything was completed and all shots needed to be taken were taken, I brought all five videographers and photographers into the office and sat down with them to discuss other arrangements for another video and photo session on Sunday.

When the discussion had ended, I went out, tired and in crying need of sleep. My friends were grinning.

'Did you get their phone numbers?'

'Whose phone numbers?'

'The guys you were having discussion with just now.' More girly gigles. I raised my eyebrows, still in the dark.

'Why should I ask for their numbers?'

'Girl! Did you speak to them with closed eyes? Didn't you notice anything about them?' Anne shot a disbelief look at me. I frowned hard, trying to remember those guys again. Finally, I shook my head.

'Young-ish, I guess.'

'What the...? Those guys are hunks! Cu-te hunks. What do you mean you didn't notice?' Dina slapped my shoulder in exasperation.

'I wish I have your job. Mine is boring.' Anne shook her head looking doleful.

'Can we swap jobs?' Jane sighed.

'Did you get their numbers?' Dina asked eagerly.

I bursted out laughing heartily. My workplace must be starved of cute guys for these girls to think just any young fellas are cute. Oh, the kind of place I work for...

Now that they've pointed that out, some of the guys are actually good-looking. As Donkey pointed out to Shrek when Princess Fiona wanted him to kiss her:

Shrek (shocked): That wasn't in the job description!

Donkey (showing rows of gleaming white teeth): Maybe it's a perk?

Maybe it's a perk... for someone else. As for me, I've only eyes for one guy. And that guy is my boyfriend. I could be walking next to Tom Cruise, or Brad Pitt. Or Prince William. And still think of my beloved.

'Oh my heart. What have you done to me? You have killed me...'