I'll take everything, please...

“Nil, sini (dia manggil gw duduk di depan mejanya). Dari semua barang-barang yang ada di sini….(dia ngebuka catalog Citibank easy pay edisi bulan Desember dan disodorin di depan muka gw dengan gaya marketing mau jualan produk), kira-kira kamu mau yang mana untuk kado ulang tahun kamu?”

Geez…so much to choose from, yet so little time….

Busted

A friend of a friend may be getting fired soon. The words ‘getting fired’ leave me squirming in my seat. Yes, I may not have the best job in the entire job, but I am thankful every day that I have a job. To be able to go to a place I call office, work some hours and get paid at the end of the month. To have that stability in my life.

This friend of a friend, wanted to withdraw money from the ATM in my office building. When he got to the machine, he found that the previous person had left their card inside the machine. Usually, some of us would cancel the last transaction and return the card to the nearest security.

Except for this friend of a friend. He withdrew money from that card, a total of five million (the maximum amount that can be withdrawn in one day), before making transaction with his own card.

Stupid? Maybe. Careless? For sure.

To his advantage (at first), the hidden camera at the ATM machine didn’t catch his face. When played back, it showed only his chest and the clothes he was wearing. Then, of course he had to go use his own ATM, as if the five million he just withdrew wasn’t enough for him to spend on self-help books preferably titled “How To Steal Effectively And Avoid Stupid Mistakes Like Getting Caught Just Minutes After”. The ATM machine recorded his transactions using his ATM card, with his data, all the while the camera recording the same person for the two transactions with different cards.

Turns out the card he stole money from, belongs to someone working in the HR department. Uh huh. He was called for questioning the day after and confessed to everything. His manager tried to defend him, but the Higher-Ups would hear none of it and decided that he must be fired.

Five million in exchange for his job.

This friend of a friend is not exactly the type of guy you would automatically assume stealing money. In fact, he’s rather quiet, graduated from a prestigious university, smart, most of the time he just keeps to himself. I hear he is supporting his family, sending his monthly take home pay to his parents and younger siblings, putting them through school. Sometime last month during lunch, I overheard him complain a little about not being able to buy new pants, since he doesn’t have any money. And someone told him, “Memang baik elo selalu mau bantuin keluarga lo. Tapi lo perlu perhatiin diri lo sendiri. Misalnya nih, tiap lo beli baju untuk adek lo 5 kali, lo beli baju buat diri lo sekali. Begitu juga dengan uang. Lo bantu orang tua lo sekian, lo sisain dikit buat lo sekian.” He listened, but didn’t say anything.

I kept going back to that conversation a month ago, and I couldn’t help but wonder. Could that be the reason? It doesn’t justify his stealing. But maybe I understand why he stole, a little. You know that longing feeling of always wanting or needing something but you just can’t get it. Not because you don’t want to, because circumstances force you to. Then suddenly there is this opportunity, this stack of money right in front of your eyes, it seems almost surreal. You sorta forget everything. You forget that you’re educated, that you don’t steal, that you might get caught, that you could lose your job. You just get greedy. You fill in this empty space in your soul for not being able to buy things. For working your ass off but not having the freedom to enjoy your income.

It hurts me to see this still happen. To some us. To this friend of a friend. That sometimes, it just takes seconds, for us to lose our common senses and give in to our weakness.

Menu Makan Siang: Handuk Panas

Waktu Liza minta gw nemenin dia creambath jam makan siang tadi, serta merta gw langsung setuju untuk pergi. Akibat perbuatan satpam yang komentar soal rambut gw yang ngga jelas modelnya, gw berniat ikutan creambath juga. At least rambut gw ngga bakal sehancur tadi pagi, dan siapa tau PD gw yang pagi ini udah minus, bisa agak surplus.

Dengan (sedikit) menyesal, kita korupsi jam kerja dan berangkat jam 11 siang. Di daerah Tebet, ada salon rumahan yang ada ruangan khusus buat perempuan. Pas banget buat Liza yang berjilbab. Tempatnya yang sederhana bikin gw sedikit lega. Berarti harganya ngga mungkin terlalu mahal. Karena “mahal” ngga cocok sama kondisi keuangan gw yang lagi miris menjurus miskin akhir-akhir ini.

Ternyata, creambath dan massage plus scrubbing itu perawatan memanjakan tubuh yang gw butuhkan. Rasa pegel-pegel selama beberapa hari terakhir, hilang. Gw jadi rileks, menikmati semua sentuhan di tubuh gw. Walaupun sebentar-sebentar harus meringis nahan sakit kalo di massage terlalu keras. Sebelumnya gw ngga pernah nyaman lepas baju di depan orang banyak. Bahkan di depan adik gw sendiri. Gw rela nunggu antrian kamar mandi hanya untuk ganti baju. Tapi tadi, I let my guard down dan gw ngobrol-ngobrol santai sama Liza hanya make sarung batik. Gw biarkan mbak-mbak di salon mijitin seluruh tangan, kaki, punggung dan sekitar dada gw. Bahkan gw ngga merhatiin kalo gw lupa cukur, err….beberapa bagian di tubuh gw yang terlalu berbulu.

Emang dasar gw yang ngga biasa dipijit, gw tergeli2 sendiri waktu mbak-mbak di salon massage punggung dan sekitar pinggang. Bulu kuduk gw langsung berdiri waktu dia mijit leher gw. Ketawan banget gw masih amatir, hahaha.

Sebagai penutup perawatan, kaki, tangan dan punggung gw di kasih handuk panas. Aaaah, jadi serasa pengen tidur siang setelah itu. What a perfect way to spend lunch hour.

As a result, my hair and skin feel and smell sooooo delicious. Now, if only I had a date tonight for someone else to smell and feel my hair…that would be great :)

Feels like Wednesday

It’s Thursday morning, and can you tell that Mr. Boss is not around? Why else would I be blogging at 9 o’clock in the morning?

I feel something strange when I wake up this morning. Like, I don’t want this day to start at all. Like, I need another 6 or 4 more hours of sleep. Or even worse, I need to start Wednesday all over again. Please. Such feeling made me late, leaving me with just enough time to brush my teeth and wash my face, walking out the door with two days of unwashed hair, a tangle of unfixable mess, wearing last week’s wardrobe, black flat shoes and no make-up on my face.

I walk outside, and the ground is wet, but the sun is shining. Having to adjust my rearview mirror yet once again, traffic is manageable. That is, until mobil gw mati saat tanjakan, gw nabrak separator jalan kerucut orange, dan terakhir, parkir miring. I don’t care. I left the basement in a hurry before any parking staff could call on me to “please get your ass back in the car and park straight, for the sake of our sanity”.

Got to my cubicle, only to throw my bag on the chair and go back down to the cafeteria. Having three kinds of breakfast: roti bakar, bakwan goreng and ketan with beautiful girls with perfect hair and make-up drinking their morning coffee (black, with not much sugar), at seven o’clock in the morning. I feel kinda bad for my sorry self for looking so out of place. Estimated self esteem at 7:15 AM today in the cafeteria: 35%. How do they manage? How do they look that put up in the morning, every single day? How?

I don’t really put much thought into it, making a secret promise that I would wake up at 4 in the morning if I have to, to be able to look like the ladies I just had breakfast with. While walking back to my desk, a security guy smiles at me. I smile back. I feel him looking at me before finally saying, “Pagi Mbak…kok rambutnya kaya gitu sih?” dengan muka mengkerut. To which I can only reply, “ Iya nih Pak, belum sempet ke salon lagi.” Dammit. I keep on walking with what’s left of my self esteem. Boy, I must really look that bad for the security guy to say something about it.

I think I really need to start Wednesday all over again. Please.

Resurrected

I'm back from the dead....

In The Spirit Of

“…For all the things I have done that I shouldn’t have, and for all the things I didn’t do that I should have…”

Mohon maaf lahir batin. Minal aidin wal faizin. Selamat Hari Raya Idul Fitri 1427H

Untuk pertama kalinya, semenjak gw kelas 5 SD, gw lebaran di Jakarta. Biasanya kalo ngga panas-panasan di Surabaya, gw udah sibuk keliling rumah sodara-sodara yang lebih tua di Bandung, trus sore-sore gantian Oma yang open house buat siapa aja yang mau mampir.

Tapi semenjak beloved Akung meninggal bulan Juli kemarin, tahun ini semangat untuk ke Surabaya udah ngga sebesar tahun-tahun sebelumnya. Mana ortu musti sowan ke rumah bos yang ngancem bakal ngabsen staff-nya satu-satu kalo ngga pada dateng ke acara silaturahmi-nya (serem amat…), jadi selesai sholat Ied tadi mum and dad udah sibuk keliling buat setor muka. Mungkin baru sore ini kita berangkat ke Bandung. And I’m missing sis so much, karena ini lebaran pertama kita jauh-jauhan.

Tadi pagi, in the spirit of lebaran, gw bangun pagi rada santai, karena kebiasaan sholat Ied di Bandung jam 7. Jadi waktu nyokap ngajakin ke masjid deket rusun jam 6 lewat, gw kaget juga. Mana belum mandi pula.

Sampe di masjid, ternyata yang dateng udah banyak sampe kita ngga dapet tempat. Ada satu shaf di bagian depan yang kosong, setelah didatengin dengan semangat, ada tulisan ”khusus untuk panitia”. Gw akhirnya harus nyempil-nyempil di shaf lain yang udah penuh banget. Lima menit sebelum sholat mulai, ternyata shaf ”khusus panitia” tadi ditempatin sama serombongan ibu-ibu yang pagi itu datang dengan sasakan rambut tinggi dan baju lebaran kinclong. Duile, kenapa sih ngga bisa pada dateng rada pagi just like the rest of us, rakyat jelata. Musti disediain shaf paling depan, trus datengnya sombong lagi, mepet-mepet waktu sholat. Bikin orang lain yang dateng duluan tapi keburu gak dapet tempat terpaksa sholat diluar, pake alas koran.

Belum juga sholat semenit, gw denger anak perempuan nangis. Pertama dia nangisnya pelan, manggil-manggil ibunya. Minta gendong. Lama-lama nangis makin kenceng, pake teriak sekuat tenaga, sampe gw gak konsen dengerin imamnya. Selama dua raka’at sholat gw cuma bisa pasrah dengerin tu anak nangis, dari terisak-isak, teriak-teriak, ampe batuk-batuk karena kecapekan nangis dan ngga lama kemudian teriak-teriak lagi ampe ngalah-ngalahin suara imam.

Gw rada merasa bersalah setelah salam kanan kiri, masa gara-gara anak kecil nangis aja gw ampe gak khusyu’ sholat. Rasa bersalah gw ngga bertahan lama, karena beberapa detik kemudian gw denger hampir semua ibu-ibu disitu (kecuali barisan ibu-ibu dengan sasakan tinggi, yang begitu sholat selesai langsung sibuk lepas mukena dan nyisir rambut mereka sedemikian rupa biar sasakan mereka ngga kempes) bisik-bisik cari sumber anak yang nangis tadi sambil ngeluarin komentar-komentar:

“Bego banget sih ibunya”
“Batalin aja kenapa sih sholatnya, namanya juga cuma sholat sunnah. Daripada ganggu yang lain”
“Ibunya ngga punya otak banget sih”
”Duh, gw jadi kagak konsen dah sholatnya”
”Buset, tadi disini dingin tiba-tiba jadi gerah...”
”Dulu anaknya si Ibu A juga pernah nangis, tapi Ibunya langsung batal sholat trus diajak keluar. Nah, harusnya yang inih juga gitu..”
”Mak...itu siapa sih yang bawa anak?”
”Anaknya Jejeng..” (ada suara yang jawab dari belakang gw)
”Jejeng? Jejeng sape? Suruh pulang aja deh Mak...”

Setelah imam selesai kasih khotbah yang menggebu-gebu, pake urat, dan (tampaknya) udah dia apalin semaleman, kita semua udah pada beresin mukena siap-siap mau pulang, tetep aja ada yang komentar, ”Mana sih ibunya anak tadi? Mau gua samperin beneran dah, biar gua kasih tau..”

Selamat lebaran ya semua...

Not Because

It’s not because I am a die hard fan of Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon or Leonardo DiCaprio, but somehow I watched this movie three times already. All within the course of one week. The first time with the guyfriends, second time with him, because I’m trying hard for us to be friends again, and I was looking, waiting for any sign from him of that possibility. When he asked me to go to see the movie, I jumped at it. Didn’t have the heart to tell him I already saw it, for fear of him feeling rejected and never asking me to go anywhere or do anything together anymore. I think we’re on good terms now. Slowly trusting each other to start this friend thing from the beginning. The third time I watched it again last night, probably cause I was bored, karena ngga ada lagi undangan buka puasa dari vendor yang penuh dengan aneka macam doorprize yang bisa didatengin mendekati libur lebaran gini, hehehe. It was either watching that, or some other teen flick like this one, or this one...both of which didn't spark my interest whatsoever. Jack Nicholson still does it for me, doesn't matter if he's nearing 70 years old. Heh.

Lalu lintas hari ini sepiiiiii….last day of work before long holiday is always a pleasure. Biasanya hari terakhir gini santai, tapi gw masih sedikit sibuk, but everyone seems to be in a good mood, especially Mr. Boss, so I don’t mind. Except for a case of cold I’m having that’s making me breathe through my mouth coz my nose is all clogged up with bright yellow mucus and sticky booger, I’m feelin’ quite alrite…

Happy holiday everyone…

All is Fair

Hari ini gw dibikin nangis (ngga nangis sih, hanya mengerjapkan mata dengan cepat mencegah air mata jatuh biar puasa ngga batal) oleh seseorang. Ngga lama kemudian orang itu kehilangan foto-foto survey-nya yang udah dia kerjain selama seminggu di daerah-daerah terpencil dalam pelosok hutan dan diperluin untuk bikin report ke bos-nya. Foto-foto itu ke-format tanpa sengaja dan ngga bisa balig lagi. Hasil kerjanya selama seminggu hilang, gitu aja. Siapa yang bilang Tuhan ngga adil?

Yeah Okay...

I know, alrite! Heartbreaks suck. They hurt like hell. It makes you want to puke and cry and die, then puke some more every single day until it doesn’t hurt as much. Tell me about it. My heart’s been ripped off my chest, thrown against a brick wall, shattered to a million pieces, and though I felt like I could never go on, somehow I managed. Put heart back to place with superglue of guts. But it doesn’t mean that I have to mend what’s left of your heart when it was never my responsibility to hold it in the first place.

And what is up with telling everyone within an earshot how you’ve been feeling about me? I’ve got random people coming up to me and saying stuff like:

“Nil, dia titip salam kangen…”
“Nil, katanya dia udah mentog ama elu. Kagak bisa kelain hati..”
“Nil, lo tenang aja disini. Dia mu cari duit dulu yang banyak trus langsung lamar elo..”
“Nil, dia lagi nyiapin apartemen yang ada beach view-nya”
“Nil, abis lebaran dia pulang! Lo mau dibeliin apaan? Tinggal bilang..”
“Nil, dia bilang elu makin manis aje..”

Geez.

And while you are now a million miles away, working in another country, you still have the nerve to tell me:

“ Non, sampean jangan pacaran dulu ya, tunggu saya pulang, mungkin 3 bulan lagi, coz aku ngga tahan disini, takutnya sampean digaet orang lain..”

Who told you to move away in the first place? I certainly don’t recall ever encouraging you.

Wait for you? How about taking a little bit of a flashback and ask yourself this: where have you been buddy? All these years, when you had the chance, you never took one. We’ve known each other since 2004, I’ve been on the same floor with you for over a year, somehow you never actually try to get to know me.

Instead, you told everyone else who would listen how you think I'm the one for you, but you never bothered telling ME.

Now you say your heart’s broken and once again I am to blame. You tell other people here how I never pick up your call or how I never reply your sms and email, and suddenly I’m the bad guy.

Yeah well, because everytime you call there’s dead air everywhere. You still can’t talk to me. Not then, not now. A conversation with you goes something like this:

“Halo Non, gimana disana? Ok-ok aja kan?”
“Ok-ok aja Mas..”
“Gimana kantor? Ok-ok aja kan?"
“Ok-ok aja Mas..”

Dead. Air.

I never replied your email because you always cc. our emails to at least two other friends of yours. Writing stuff about how you always pray for us to be together, or how you’re now applying to a French owned company and how you would like to take me there one day. Those emails are supposed to be private, dontcha think? Why let other people read it?

I don’t reply your sms because I don’t know the polite reply to “Non, aku kangen nih sama sampean..” when I don’t feel the same way. Or the right way to reply, “Non, kalo aku pulang mau dibeliin baju merek apa? Disini semua ada lho..” when you know I was never impressed by whatever things your money can buy.

And now, I’ve still got random people come up to me and saying:

“Nil, dia patah hati tuh…”
“Nil, gw tau dia bukan tipe elu. Tapi elu harusnya kasih dia semangat dong, biar dia betah disana”

"Nil, dia pengen pulang terus tuh. Keinget lu mulu katanya..."

It seems like we are having a relationship that’s open for public viewing and interest, while in fact we have no relationship at all. People are so concerned about how I'm treating you, how you're feeling, never once asking how I might feel about this whole thing that you build up.

So now let me say how I feel: Us? I don't think it'll happen. Never pressured you to move away to make thousands of dollars I never want in the first place. But you moved. And I don’t think it’s fair telling me to wait for you when you had your two years to get to know me. But you never did. And all this time you think you know who I am? You have no idea. There’s so much more to me than that. And fuckit, money ain’t one of them. If you took the time to get to know me you would know that.

Heartbreaks are never easy. Yet most of us deal with it anyway. If you decide to expose to everyone how hurt you are, go ahead. Let me be the ugly bitch. Let me be the one everyone hates for being mean to you. But suck it up like a grown man and go on with your life.

Hooked

I braved myself to look at his pictures, didn’t really know what for, just felt like it. Surely after some months of him being gone, today, finally he would not mean anything to me but some old memory, some distant recollection that a long, long time ago we acknowledged each other’s existence, felt something, but never had the guts to do anything about it.

Memories of him are just dreams, endless thoughts, some tears, and lots of frustration. One big question never answered.

Imagine my surprise when the first picture of him popped on my screen from a company gathering three years ago, no less, old feelings came rushing back. The old familiar twitch, the same admiration, the same tingling in my hands, in my stomach, the same hope, the same “Oh my God!”, the same longing, the familiar ping of happiness mixed with sadness, the same “what-ifs”.

My hand quickly closed over my mouse and I right-clicked on every picture with him on it: Save picture as. For future reference. What future reference? Those short emails that I’ve saved from two years back, those even shorter SMS that filled my phone inbox but never got around throwing away? Those unfinished stories that I wrote and sometime wonder what the end would be like? What for?

It. Sucks.

I hope I never see you again in my life.

I'm so over this. Please get out of my mind. Get out from every cell in my body that still wants you. Get out from every unconscious thought that convince me that I’m missing you. Forget the fact that every time someone mentions your name, to this day, my heart still does a little double flip. Just. Get. Out.

You are the drug that got me hooked.