Mea Culpa

I feel everybody speeding pass me, taking over, just driving on the speed lane of the road.

I see it happening more and more. I feel I am left behind.

I also don’t see them to be much smarter than me. They are simply average.

I see only one difference. Confidence. Self-confidence.

I can see they don’t  tend to over analyse things like I do, trying to plan every step, to predict every trouble that can arise, every consequence possible. They just drive, go ahead, don’t  ask all the time “What if I won’t make it?”, What if I fail?”, “What if I don’t like it?”.

I am standing in the same place for years now. I came to London, got my first job in catering and I stayed. Of course I’ve changed places – physically – but idea stayed the same. Catering. I earn more, true. But I am still a caterer. I can afford to go on nice holiday. When they are over, I go back to catering. I feel like there is nothing else I could do, I can’t see what else is there, like I was cursed and made to die as a catering assistant. I hate this job.

Facebook doesn’t help. I can all the time see people who moved on. I can see people going away, excelling at my workplace. They just do their courses and move on. Cristiane. Slavek, Moham, now supervisor J. Painfully I realise that the only thing that keeps me where I am is Me Myself and I. My indecisiveness. My fear. My 30 years old “I-don’t-know-what-I-want-to-be-and-who-I-want-to-be-and-who-I-am-now-and-where-I’m-going”. Restless, uncertain, undecided, scared, frustrated, sick, miserable and just simply undoubtedly unhappy I am, tossing.

8 hours

480 minutes

28 800 seconds..

I hate each and every single one of them.



One thought on “Mea Culpa

  1. Pingback: A little rectification | Life of a Catering Assistant

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