So, uh...what happens now?
Notes on getting acclimated to the workweek, and an unorthodox obituary for my childhood hamster.
Back in 2004, it seemed like any other kid in nursery owned a pet. In the social strata of the playground, it’s either you owned a dog, a cat, a hamster, or a tamagotchi. I was part of the hamster congregation. Now, whether or not that entailed which social state I was in, I never knew. I haven’t had the slightest idea on how much these rodents went for.
Unfortunately for Ken, this lack of awareness for hamster retail prices impacted him the most. Ken was our family hamster – a tiny, white furball with brown spots that we named after the blonde Street Fighter protagonist for God knows what reason. What I did know was that he was the world’s most boring hamster. See, Ken only ever did four things: eat leftover fruit, sip from his water tube, take a nap, and do his laps about the hamster wheel. He would do any of the four at any given time of the day, as if his brain has a preprogrammed randomizer that sets out an agenda for him given these four items. I’d maniacally watch him after I got home from nursery, tapping his cage and hoping on the off chance that he’d have any interaction with me, but that endeavor often ended in naught.
The first and last time that Ken tapped back happened on a random Saturday afternoon. I don’t know if he sensed that we were both growing bored, but it felt like the little rodent was sending a message when he kept on rapping his tiny hands on the cage door. This was it, I thought. This was the interaction that I had yearned for. I ran to the cage to grant his request, and he bolted out in lightning speed. Ken sped around the living room like a maniac stripped off of a straightjacket. I tried to chase him around, but a fat, four year old can only render so much speed. In no time, Ken made his way to the opened window sill, and he just…jumped off. Needless to say, that was the last I saw of the little guy.
To this day, I have no idea whether Ken survived the fall or not, but I comfort myself of the loss by thinking “Hey, at least I know he can do more than just four things!”. Maybe the little guy wasn’t so boring after all.
These days, I’ve had growing investment in a certain subreddit that serves as a space where Filipinos in the tech industry share declassified tips and anecdotes to thrive and survive in the workforce. The forum is home to a multitude of topics and work scenarios: how to negotiate salary, how not to get fired, how to prevent workplace conflict, how not to break the website that the team’s been working on, the whole nine. As someone who’s still a lowly cadet in the unfamiliar waters of employment, this shit is like the bible to me.
Amidst the workplace situationals that was the most common genre in the subreddit, there was one unique post that stuck with me. The headline read so simple: “How do you stay motivated at work?”. There was nothing particularly controversial nor offensive about the post; truth be told, if you ask the average working person on what boggles their mind, grasping for motivation to continue working would be part of the consensus. This was corroborated by the legions of engagement that this post garnered, composed in large part of people issuing their pieces of advice on how to tackle this dilemma.
I’d usually just take a walk in the middle of the day to keep my spirits up!
Payday keeps me motivated!
I look at my kids and see whose futures I have to work for!
I kind of just go with the flow so I’m not really contributing to this online conversation!
On the surface, it seems as though there is absolutely nothing noteworthy from this entire online discourse, but I decided to read on anyway out of sheer desperation. The thing is, I came across this post at the end of yet another long workday; it was probably a Wednesday, because Wednesdays are objectively the worst workdays. When you’re sitting on the edge of a tiring day of labor – sandwiched between similar, humdrum-type of days – you begin to dilute your sense of time altogether. You start seeing the week as one huge blob of emails, meetings, spreadsheets, and code. The time starts to shrink into an incessant 8-hour shift, the space starts to take shape of a cubicle, and you start to wonder if there’s more to your waking days than just jumping back and forth between the means and the ends of paying the bills. When everything just feels like a routine: those are the worst work days.
And so, I was desperate. At least, I was desperate enough to scroll through reams of suggestions from strangers on the subreddit post that read so simply, but carries the weight of the working world: “How do you stay motivated at work?”. Out of all the answers, I found that only one reciprocated the powerful simplicity of the question.
“Always have something look forward to, whether it be by day, week, month, or year!” exclaimed one Reddit user.
They explained that setting short and long-term goals, events, and virtually anything else that they know they enjoy helped them complete the work sprints with ease. To have something to look forward to within the day could be the adobo you’re going to have for lunch. To have something to look forward to within the week could be a night out with some friends. To have something to look forward to within the month and year could be a concert, a big purchase, or a vacation. That way, you always find yourself thinking positive reinforcements are on the way after a certain amount of work. It sounds so simple that it actually makes sense.
This reminds me of the psychology of walking. When you’re walking without a sense of a north star in vision, the activity feels a lot more dragging than it’s supposed to be because you feel like it’s monotonous. In contrast, when you’re walking towards a perceived target, you condition yourself that the journey maybe isn’t that barren, tiring, and far-fetched, so to speak.
The next morning, I started hitting up some friends if they wanted to hang out on the weekend. I ordered some KFC chicken for lunch. I looked at my bank account, thinking about the next payday and how much I can allot to savings and how much I can allot for a pair of nice pants I saw somewhere. I ended the day by painting with watercolor after I found some unused paint. The painting turned out like shit, but I didn’t mind. I was actively looking forward to doing things. A little reminder that there’s more to the world outside the confines of the 9 to 5.
Thinking of routines made me think of Ken, the hamster. To this day, I still have no idea if he survived the fall, but I like to think he did, feeling a lot freer then considering he was no longer compelled to do the same four things all over again. He has redefined what it means to be a groundhog.