Quitter. Don’t you just despise that word? Don’t you wish people never find out you gave up on something, on anything?

Today, I decided to call it quits with my present job - a job not even two months old. Why? I have several reasons, all of which you can read in a lengthier, if not “rantier” post.

Whether these reasons save me from the crucifying sensation of being labelled a quitter, I will find out soon enough. But right now, I am unwell. I know I wanted to quit. I know I wanted to resign. The emotional toll, however, is only sinking in today.

A bad job decision. The struggle to fit in. Difficulty in coping with tasks beyond my professional experience. They seemed to be sufficient reasons to leave. And having passed my resignation letter, I do enjoy a certain sigh of relief, a sliver of peace I haven’t had the last seven weeks.

But I am also disappointed. In myself, more than anything else. And foolishly, disappointed in the universe’s ways. Like the gods had something to do with my personal setbacks. Like spirits possessed me to make such a huge decision. Not a tinge of sadness rather a melange of shattered self-esteem, interior agitation, and overwhelming loneliness. Disappointed because I could have been more graceful when the days were rough rather than bombarding family and friends with my defeatist outlook.

I have three weeks left. No new job waiting in the wings, except for a few applications that I’ve been praying to hear from. Back to the drawing board it seems, and back to square one.

Quitter. Am I one? Or is it just like gay, another label I should not pay attention to? Weak? Perhaps. Weak against the challenges thrown my way. Quitting the battle. Tired. Too tired to think, feel, write.

After I wrote about investments, I’ve been thinking about chronicling my professional journey. I’m planning a new blog/journal, which would serve as a repository for my less poetic, less prosaic recordings on life. I’ve been inspired by Where Is Life especially after an insightful correspondence with the author, Leah Cox, regarding my professional and personal struggles. She brought an outside perspective that was terribly needed, and which has already proven invaluable.

I’m also planning on attending a seminar on goal setting this weekend. I think it would a great learning experience. Aside from being affordable, the center organizing the event has a great background. The speaker’s credentials are also noteworthy – he doesn’t seem to be the usual ‘all persuasion’ lecturer rather focused more on practical lessons that would apply. Which I like. Substance over flare, as I say. Plus, I’m planning to network with fellow young professionals during the seminar, or maybe find myself a professional mentor. Not that I am in desperate need of one. But having someone view your life from a different perspective gives you an expanded panorama that can be crucial for success, especially the personal kind.

In other news, this week could potentially be a game changer. I do hope I get a job offer I’ve been praying for. I’ve gone through a rigorous process for two particular career opportunities. This week is make or break. I’m terribly hoping for the former.

On another note, I’d like to ask you a question. How do you feel about mixing money with relationships? With family, it’s easy. But when it comes to friends or acquaintances, I’ve often found it burdening to put a relationship under certain financial obligations. I know many couples who argue over money. My parents have had their share of debates over finances. And as much as I trust my financial advisor over my investments, I understand she’s simply doing her job, and emotional investment is out of the question. So when the pesos or dollars get mixed in usually innocent or candid friendly activities, I’ve found the relationships more difficult to maintain, and in the long-term, strained. Money is good. But thrown into intimate and deep private connections, it can be problematic.

Thoughts?

mother’s day

Words are essentially useless when we begin to describe the goodness of our mothers. Patient, kind, gentle – these are but few adjectives we’ve grown accustomed to being attached to the women who gave birth to us. It is all but true honoring our mothers should never be limited to a day. Gratitude must be expressed in every waking moment, in every precious second. Their presence is crucial, and to undermine their impact in the lives of men, in societies, and in nations, is to be ignorant of the few basic truths which keep this world intact. Mothers are manifestations of love. There are of course, rarities. Cruel, abusive, indifferent. However, these instances of violence and apathy can never dampen the overwhelming goodness of the billions of others who have fought against the same – cruelty from their own children, abuse in the hands of their husbands, and the indifference of society. If there is one word better to describe mothers, it is brave. Indeed, braver than most men.

So regardless of how annoyed we maybe of their unsolicited advice, their nagging, their worrisome nature, and for some, their emasculating tenderness, it is actually all of those which restore sense in our lives.

Today, tonight, tomorrow, and the rest of the days we have earned another second to live with our mothers, let us love them. Love them as they deserve. Love them as they love us so unconditionally.