It has been almost a month since the last time I hanged out at my favorite cafe Satchmi. I seriously missed their affogato and pesto with baked chicken, so being able to treat myself with it just warms my heart.
And it has been also a while since I had this segment called Sunday Night Questions, where I answer a set of 5 yes-or-no questions, explaining is optional. While I am chilling here, I might as well do this! Continue reading Sunday Night Questions VI
My anxiety levels are as high as Mount Everest (again), special thanks to this almost-every-week of overtime that since since May. What can I do though? I have a job to do, and I do not want to disappoint the company. But I feel my brain and that same creeping anxiety attack are having their own baby anxiety attack. What the shit? I’m seriously considering the 2-month resignation notice if this does not stop.
In the meantime, one way to distract myself from this work anxiety is writing either on my journal or writing here on The Dispatch. Now let me distract myself with the return of Sunday Night Questions, where I answer a set of 5 yes-or-no questions, and I can but am not obligated explain the answers. I’d like to rant tonight, so expect a lot of it after the jump.
And here we go… Continue reading Sunday Night Questions V
Let me tell you something again under 10 minutes.
Productivity wise, well… I have a few rough nights not coming up with better homepage designs. I also need to sharpen my pen tool skills. Perfect. Just when I am falling in love with Adobe Illustrator again. But other than that I’m good.
And also I’ve been checking more of my junior designer’s social media and UI work, too. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I need to go overtime and work on her tasks myself. But that would not make her improve, right? It’s not in my nature to be strict and I am kind of a rebel myself, but in order for my subordinate to improve, I need to toughen her up. So far, so good. I hope she improves in a couple of months.
When it comes to my panic attacks, there are a few major ones but I am really doing my best to handle them myself, though I do need to inform my loved ones what is happening to me. Even if I am having those attacks, I still have to be aware of my surroundings. I cannot let them win over me. Fuck anxiety, man.
In the coming weeks, I will finally scatter some old posts to beef up The Dispatch’s archives. I’m pretty sure there will be a lot of writing exercises over actual essays, but that’s better than having a stagnant blog. Right?
And there goes 10 minutes.