It is quite really hard to find the apt job for me. It has been three weeks since I applied here and there to some companies. Within that period, I was called four times for interview. Jocularly, nothing’s work! Two companies actually offered me a job, but I did not feel like signing the contracts. It not solely because of the salary, it was either the crazy working-hours or location. I did not come to the other two interviews since: 1) I was too late to realize that the invitation email was spammed for almost two weeks and 2) I found out that the job offering was fictitious and they are just looking for some gullible and desperate people generous enough to spend their real money on crap products as the requirement to get the aforementioned fictitious job.
I realize that the problem, however, is not entirely in the jobs, though; it has always been in me. I suffer from acute anxiety that I will be trapped in a perennial contract with unhappiness and daily exhaustion that will continually suck the life and humane out of me. The thing that I fear more than being a slave of routine—which is inevitable—is being a soulless machine. I am aware that I will be a mere screw in a gigantic machine of capitalism; and that the choice that I make is influential in what my future career—or life—will most likely be.
It is not that I am unaware of a metaphor that I will not make any step if I was just wondering, predicting, and researching what the upcoming road will be; I am just thinking whether I choose the nature of the work I will do all day or the quality of dinner I will have at night.
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