(A story written 10 years ago)
Monday, July 13th, will always be memorable for me. I did something I never expected I’d do. I had sworn I’d never do it again when I left my previous job and became a freelancer.
The Beginning
Last week, a friend recommended me for a corporate job. The next day, I was already at an interview — and I got the position. A Project Manager role that sounded amazing: plenty of benefits, endless possibilities. I was thrilled and ready to change my professional life.
The next day, I had dinner with the director and my future colleagues. Monday was the day to start.
The Middle
Monday, 9:00 AM sharp, I arrived at the office, excitement through the roof. I knew adapting to a strict schedule would be tough, but I thought the salary would give me wings stronger than any energy drink.
The first thing I noticed? Cold.
That kind of cold that makes your head spin and your blood freeze. Later I learned the AC was permanently set that way, and I would “get used to it,” just like everyone else.
During those nine hours, I went to the bathroom over fifteen times. The last three or four visits involved blood in my urine — yes, I said it ★. I tried to deal with it by sitting on a warm stone on the rooftop smoking area.
As for the “company-provided” lunch… well, I ended up eating poorly and paying for it myself. One colleague, to be fair, had brought containers from home — I assumed he was more eco-conscious. Wrong. Everyone ate what they brought or bought for themselves.
I spent 30 lei on McDonald’s, another ten on water.
Water?!
Yes. The office water cooler was empty, and the full bottles only arrived near the end of the day. I offered to refill one if someone helped me. The only “man” in the room said we had to wait for the other colleague to come because they “do it together.” Nine kilos are heavy… apparently.
My wonderful Project Manager job consisted of work anyone with a high school diploma could do: calling companies, logging records, making files, doing tasks for the director, and of course, making coffee and tea for meetings. Projects? Nonexistent.
I originally understood that the previous person in the role was leaving the country. False. She was going elsewhere, obviously with a higher salary.
At 1:00 PM, everyone “broke the door” to leave for lunch, just like in the communist days I remembered from my parents’ workplaces. At 4:00 PM, the same routine repeated.
I still had half an hour of nothing to do but couldn’t leave. A colleague warned me that it “wouldn’t look good” if I left early, that “opinions would be formed and stuck.”
Say what?!
I didn’t want to parade around half-naked — I just wanted to leave before I melted from cold and fatigue. I had a fever, I was slumping in my chair, felt my brain drilling through my skull, ready to escape.
So we all sat there, lethargic, until the clock hit 6:00 PM, when everyone finally “broke the door” again.
The End
I left on seven different paths, and I wasn’t drunk. I was just disappointed.
Disappointed that in Romania, foreigners come to exploit people for little money.
That they promise you a vacation in Nice, and you end up in a tent at the border.
Or in a “two-star” hotel with broken windows, and they call it luxury.
I left crying, physically and mentally exhausted, with a fever, bloodshot eyes from the cursed AC, and money spent — on gas, parking, food.
At home, I lay down with a warm bottle between my legs, shivering. I struggled to go to the pharmacy. My legs wouldn’t cooperate. The outside air felt like it was making me sick.
Since that day, I admire even more those who endure all this. Those who persevere.
I cannot endure it.
And more than that, I have too many resources and too much determination to endure it.
There are voices worrying about my pension, my income, my “recklessness” — like, “what future do you have with translations and jewelry?”
Maybe I’ll try video chat.
Maybe I’ll sweep apartment stairs.
Maybe I’ll win the lottery.
★ WTF?
The dog dies on the long road… unfortunately.
I live well without worrying about anyone else.
And I sincerely wish the same for you.