theaussiezombie

Working a 10 hour shift on Saturday and Sunday is not that bad. There’s minimal people coming in and out. The usually serious-faced and slightly scary GM is more laid back and friendly on the weekends, when he do come into the office. And, I basically surf the web and do whatever I want as long as I stay within Reception area.

Most teachers who come in to do their Naplan marking are nice enough. The elderly ladies, 60 years and above, are so sweet. Whenever I meet old people, it makes me wonder where they come from and what they’ve lived through. They  must have so many stories to tell.

Are they very different from themselves now? Did they protest against the war, take LSD just for fun, went to The Beatles’ concert, wear bell-bottom jeans and tie dyed shirts? Did everyone cruise around in convertibles and drank milkshakes at diners? Did the men back then have better manners? Did the women have pixie cuts and wear mod dresses and leggings like Twiggy?

The 50s and 60s must’ve been just wonderful.

I’m jealous of old people.

There’s something about going to work that humbles you sometimes.

There’s that guy who works in the warehouse, who’s like 20 years old, very hardworking and easygoing, who has a mom who has cancer, and a stepdad who just recovered from cancer too. 

Then there’s Danielle, the lovely cleaner, who’s probably the most amazing woman on earth, considering she survived cancer, and a horrible nasty lazy selfish ass of a boss. She also has 6 daughters and an equally nice husband Phil. She works non stop, and I really mean non stop without complaints and does her job with such commitment and dedication, at the same time being such a nice, kind, sweet person that she is.

And then there’s Kerry, who is a 26 year old single mom of 2 kids under the age of 10.

I don’t know how these people do it.

I feel so ashamed because coming from an Asian family, our parents provide us with most of the things we need and want. And slowly, we take things for granted and not realise how fortunate we are. I don’t have to worry about not being able to go to uni because all the money have been used for medical fees – my parents paid for 3 years of my Bachelor’s course. I don’t have to worry about being sick with cancer and not being able to feed my 6 daughters. I don’t have to worry about paying the rent and my kid’s school trips or immunisation shots. Heck, I don’t even have to worry about what to cook for dinner tomorrow because mom’s gonna do it.

I’m lucky. Horse shoe, four leaf clover, red underpants kind of lucky. Most of us are compared to a lot out there. Next time you feel like whinging about something, take a breather and think about humble pie eh? Why is it that we always look at what we don’t have rather than what we have?