All this talk about ‘ikat perut’, less clubbing nights, travelling et al is draining me. I thought the country is ready to ‘embrace’ the global recession? When Tan Sri Dato’ Zeti Akhtar (Bank Negara’s Governor) announced the nation is geared up for the economic onslaught, I heaved a sigh of relief but am I?
Sadly, enterprising individuals are riding high in this economic crunch. They have started ‘debundling’ their price structure (Can’t believe I’m using their lingo but anyway) to cloud bargain hunters like me. Imagine, once upon a time, annual gym membership is sold at a lump sum and nowadays, one can pay monthly with all the perks of a life time membership just like the yesteryears.
And I think this theory is plausible, when you look good, you feel good. What better way to forget the things that are happening in this world these days but to sweat it out in the hopes to achieve a demi-god appearance or investing on a new skincare regime. Beauty powerhouses like Clinique and Estee Lauder, if you notice, will throw in a free limited edition designer bag when one purchases their skincare kit. Wholesome evilness operating before our eyes! But what’s a fin-de-millennium generation to do but to be a victim of all this marketing immorality?
At the work front, it is just pure suicidal! With most companies, either freezing talent employment or restructuring the whole organisation, I on the other hand, have to put a happy facade to ‘lovely’ colleagues that I dearly wish to be sacked or voluntarily resign themselves. These individuals have no choice but to stay employed while I suffer facing them on a daily basis. And suddenly, I have to be a tour guide du jour to newly transferred co-workers into our department just like our little Janice.
“This would be the pantry where all of us have our sad economic-downturn-home-packed lunch,” I launched one day. “Oh, its fine, my boyfriend picks me up for lunch daily,” she rubbed in. With clenched teeth, I screamed “Aroint thee!” inside. It is just not fair, how come I have to eat tapau-ed food and she gets to be epicurean of the month at The Social.
The bosses are a sight to behold too. With numbers crunching and stock markets going downhill so are their faces too. Imagine someone perpetually sucking on a lemon. Then again, I must say it’s a delight to see your bosses sad and helpless, at least we are not alone but urghhh, it is almost unavoidable that they will pick a punching bag in the office i.e. yours truly.
Badly punched by the boss, we would habitually return home early these days (considering we aren’t suppose to splurge at restaurants or de-stress at The Gardens in such pressing times) and witness unpalatable cuisine. My mother has resorted to uncreative dinner creations (Martha Stewart where are you?!). If I were to mirror the current financial situation of the world, the gastronomic line-up would be the perfect reflection. Great, not only do I have to face insipid colleagues and bosses, now my own mother has decided that all of us should go for a dietary change.
On the tip of the scale would be my useless friends. To whom should I go to when even my mother has ‘disowned’ me by resorting to uninspiring cookery? Your friends, you say. But no, suddenly these life forms have evolved to nouveau riche beings. “I’m sure you could afford this,” Mimi pointing to Fendi’s Spring Summer 09 oh-so-cute anglaise broderie dress. “Just swipe the card lah,” practising her medical saleswoman persuasion skills. And she closed the deal with, “You look great in it”. I’m sold. Peer pressure everybody. How come CNBC’s financial commentator never predicted that unadulterated peer pressure is amongst the things to hit the nation in this global recession? Why?
Having said that, my kiasu-ism got the best of me. Hence, I will still waltz into my office in that Fendi dress and secretly enjoy my home-packed lunch with my dearest colleagues that I secretly wish to disappear into oblivion.
Sadly, enterprising individuals are riding high in this economic crunch. They have started ‘debundling’ their price structure (Can’t believe I’m using their lingo but anyway) to cloud bargain hunters like me. Imagine, once upon a time, annual gym membership is sold at a lump sum and nowadays, one can pay monthly with all the perks of a life time membership just like the yesteryears.
And I think this theory is plausible, when you look good, you feel good. What better way to forget the things that are happening in this world these days but to sweat it out in the hopes to achieve a demi-god appearance or investing on a new skincare regime. Beauty powerhouses like Clinique and Estee Lauder, if you notice, will throw in a free limited edition designer bag when one purchases their skincare kit. Wholesome evilness operating before our eyes! But what’s a fin-de-millennium generation to do but to be a victim of all this marketing immorality?
At the work front, it is just pure suicidal! With most companies, either freezing talent employment or restructuring the whole organisation, I on the other hand, have to put a happy facade to ‘lovely’ colleagues that I dearly wish to be sacked or voluntarily resign themselves. These individuals have no choice but to stay employed while I suffer facing them on a daily basis. And suddenly, I have to be a tour guide du jour to newly transferred co-workers into our department just like our little Janice.
“This would be the pantry where all of us have our sad economic-downturn-home-packed lunch,” I launched one day. “Oh, its fine, my boyfriend picks me up for lunch daily,” she rubbed in. With clenched teeth, I screamed “Aroint thee!” inside. It is just not fair, how come I have to eat tapau-ed food and she gets to be epicurean of the month at The Social.
The bosses are a sight to behold too. With numbers crunching and stock markets going downhill so are their faces too. Imagine someone perpetually sucking on a lemon. Then again, I must say it’s a delight to see your bosses sad and helpless, at least we are not alone but urghhh, it is almost unavoidable that they will pick a punching bag in the office i.e. yours truly.
Badly punched by the boss, we would habitually return home early these days (considering we aren’t suppose to splurge at restaurants or de-stress at The Gardens in such pressing times) and witness unpalatable cuisine. My mother has resorted to uncreative dinner creations (Martha Stewart where are you?!). If I were to mirror the current financial situation of the world, the gastronomic line-up would be the perfect reflection. Great, not only do I have to face insipid colleagues and bosses, now my own mother has decided that all of us should go for a dietary change.
On the tip of the scale would be my useless friends. To whom should I go to when even my mother has ‘disowned’ me by resorting to uninspiring cookery? Your friends, you say. But no, suddenly these life forms have evolved to nouveau riche beings. “I’m sure you could afford this,” Mimi pointing to Fendi’s Spring Summer 09 oh-so-cute anglaise broderie dress. “Just swipe the card lah,” practising her medical saleswoman persuasion skills. And she closed the deal with, “You look great in it”. I’m sold. Peer pressure everybody. How come CNBC’s financial commentator never predicted that unadulterated peer pressure is amongst the things to hit the nation in this global recession? Why?
Having said that, my kiasu-ism got the best of me. Hence, I will still waltz into my office in that Fendi dress and secretly enjoy my home-packed lunch with my dearest colleagues that I secretly wish to disappear into oblivion.
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