Spatial Cities

As I heave past the revolving doors and walk up the lobby, I notice seats filled with men and women, all of various ethnicities and from various social classes. They all wore the distinct restlessness of people waiting uncomfortably but trying not to appear so. It still surprises me; the sheer number of people who turn up for our volunteer counselling program on a daily basis. I walked purposefully toward the barriers beyond which stood the various offices where the counsellors would at this moment be preparing their files and notebooks, getting coffee and straightening up their appearances to receive the first client out of the sea of people waiting outside. Plastering a cordial but cool professional smile on my face, I met a few people's eyes as I approached the barriers. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out my pass and swiped it. Barriers opening, I walked into a different chapter of my story for the day. Access. What is access? It is the pass that lets one in where others are n...

If you've heard it once, you must have heard it at least a hundred times.  If I could tell my 15 year old self something, I'd tell her not to worry and that everything gets better. I'd tell my sixteen year old self that life begins after high school and that the guy I stressing over was not the love of my life. The assumption is usually that wisdom comes with age, so we wax on with advice and wise counsel for younger people around us, hoping that we can spare them the perils which we were too silly and naïve to avoid. In most cases, this assumption is not wrong. A person who has walked the same road forty times most likely knows the road better than someone who has walked it ten times. There is something to be gained from the experience that comes with age, and it is very noble to want to be a guide to the people who are coming by the way you have been before, to teach them about the potential pitfalls and to show them the higher and better road. However, there is...

I am certain that if you stick around for a while on my blog, you will find that I am a principled person. One of the principles I operate by is integrity. I am very big on integrity. How does this translate in the workplace? I will never defraud my boss of my working hours. Even when I am alone at work, I do my job. I am not sloppy; I do my job to perfection. I take pride in what I do, and I do it to standards that I can take pride in-which for a perfectionist are very high and sometimes unreasonable standards. I believe in doing my absolute best, no matter the situation, and I do this at work. It reflects in the way my boss is comfortable to increase my responsibilities and rely increasingly on me. But what do I get in return? -No appreciation. -No pay rise. -More responsibilities. -More demands (of the unnecessary In a situation like this, the tendency may be to flip the table and begin to put in less time at work, reduce the quality of your work and productivity, be less fl...

Hey Reader! I am in a bit of a sticky situation at work, and I thought I'd come vent to my online community and maybe someone will learn from my experience. About a year ago, I was in dire need of a job, and after months of asking around, applying and praying, I finally landed an interview. It was a sort of "independent business" but it was doing well financially. I had managed to secure a side gig a few weeks before, and this new job fit perfectly time-wise. Additionally, the cumulative pay from both jobs was an improvement over my past earnings. I was excited. However, I made a very rookie mistake at the interview. You see, I have a worldview that is sometimes too idealistic, and while this serves me just well in being a person that I myself admire, it also gets me in trouble in some situations. While speaking of what I expected to be paid, I did not think in terms of the prospective job as a job on its own, instead I thought of what I could be paid and how it wou...

Hello! I'm back again after over a year. Without wasting much time, I'm getting right into this story and what it is all about. When I was a child of about 9 years old, I really got into reading. This love was cultivated by my mother who bought me and my siblings the cutest story books and made reading enjoyable by introducing fun activities and using positive reinforcement. I soon discovered the absolute magic of  the written text and before long, I was reading everything in sight -yes, including my mother's diaries, much to her consternation! As many a writer will bear witness, the love for reading eventually produced a reciprocal love for writing. It could not be helped! The books I had read had unlocked a vault within me and these words needed to be let out in my own literary voice. I remember finding a quiet nook within the bedrooms in my childhood home and writing as many stories, songs and poems as I could before the day grew long and I had to have supper with...