On Quitting the Evil Empire-- Corporate Sell Out or Full Time Bum; Choosing Between the Lesser Evil

Before anything else, Happy Independence day to all my fellow countrymen. Don't worry, this is not an entry about our history and I will not yap about it like most bloggers do. However, this is an entry about my own personal freedom from corporate slavery.


I haven’t written anything remotely real for quite sometimes. However this time, I can’t use the same excuse that I’ve been using for the past years—the same lame ass excuse about being busy. For those who haven’t heard it yet, I already quit my corporate job three months ago. Basically, my whole life roll around attending occasional job interviews, baby sitting my dogs and watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother so I have all the time in my hands to update this blog with entries and not just pictures of foods and other stuffs.

After three years of captivity, I decided to free myself from corporate slavery and brave the wilderness of unemployment. I’ve been overly bitching out how I hate my work constantly with my other friends and few special people that I used to work with, in that god-forsaken place (you know who you are *wink). And we always fantasize the idea of quitting until three months ago, one by one, we finally did. FYI, I don’t actually hate my work. It’s the environment that I refused to get used to, that I hate.

Yes, you read that last part right. I love every single detail of what I am doing in that place. I’ve grown to be a whole lot better in terms of up leveling the technical aspect of my writing skills. I honed my craft and learned new things therefore I must be grateful for that. However, working inside the walls of the Empire really sucks. Every single day is a battle. It’s like surviving in the jungle. You must not let your guards down or you’ll be the one going down. I am sick and tired of playing their mind games and pretending to be somebody else just to fit in. For three years, I played the role of the black hearted-stubborn-back stabbing-bitch. I had to embody a strong exterior so others will not have the slightest idea that they can bring me down. But over the years I realized, I am not that person. I can’t continue to become mean and heartless to live and continue to exist with them… and so I quit.

So here I am, spending most of my time inside my room. I haven’t figured it out yet where to even begin coping up with what I have lost. Sure, there are still loose end factors in this scenario. This isn’t the whole picture yet. I have yet to unfold the whole story. After three months, I am still stuck in a very confusing limbo and I haven’t been over with the emotional damage that caused this disfigured reality. There’s so much to tell, so many emotions to pour out but for now I leave you with this.