I have been working in a humble digital production house for 1 year, 9 months and 15 days and counting. I wish I was still blogging regularly back then – all the emotional baggage I could have dispatched would have fulfilled my “blogging regularly” project.
But I can summarize them all here: The first year was filled with lots of social media materials and some web projects on the sides, sharpening my design skills slowly but surely with the help of Jessica and my fellow creatives.
The second year, more website projects piled up and the social media posts disappear slowly from my daily tasks. I started feeling more confident about working efficiently, and it went to the point that Jessica would guide me less and less. And less became never. Of course I would still ask for her help, but on a mininum.
OCTOBER 14, 2015
While I was listing down my battle plan for my PDF-creating task, Jessica told me, “Mr. Rye wants to talk to you in the conference room.”
I went to the conference room. And there he was, in casual wear, holding some clipped papers. Like the rest of the creatives, he’s almost always in casual wear. And he seems to have two modes: the serious mode with his piercing attack eyes and his happy mode with, of course, a smile.
He was not in his serious mode.
He said and smiled, “[Redacted], here is your new contract.”
He handed the papers to me. “Take your time to review it, sign when done and give it to Ms. Mira.”
“Su-weeeeet. Thank you, sir!”
After an hour of more PDF work, I took a break and review the papers. All the words on the contract share almost the same words on the contract I signed 2 years ago. The difference? A higher step—the “interactive designer” position and the corresponding raise in bold format. No more “junior”. It runs for 2 more years, although I can quit any time during that time period (but not without paying a pretty hefty fee).
After 30 minutes of thinking, I stopped thinking and signed. I gave it Ms. Mira right after that.
Well, that was fast. 30 minutes. Why?
November 7, 2013 – Afternoon
It keeps bothering me that I have already submitted my resume to 10 different companies and I still have not heard from even one. Even during my lunch time with family, I still waited for a phone call.
And then this segment on noontime TV show Eat Bulaga showed up while we were eating. That segment is That’s My Tambay, where the unemployed convinces a panel of judges (most of them are also hosts of the show) with the their resume, some Q&A and their special talents. That’s all I know about that.
“You should join… maybe that will help,” Father said and then teasingly laughed at me. That was the first of many times that he said that, and it always made me feel only one time: insulted.
I believe I have a good resume and portfolio, although I know they can be improved. Also, come on. I need to earn my own money. I want a job. I need to feel useful. But I also don’t want to go low and join that shitty segment. Besides, I can sing and dance… terribly.
October 14, 2015 – Afternoon
And that’s why after 30 minutes of reminiscing my unemployment, I signed right away. I signed up out of fear. I signed up out of fear that I will not get a new job after my initial plan of being corporate for 3 years. I signed up out of fear that I will not be able to save up more money for my future. I signed up out of fear of feeling useless again.
And after I signed that contract, that fear was extinguished. Out of that comes hope—the hope that 4 years of working in a corporate environment is more than enough to prepare me to the next step, the hope that I will be able to save up for both my future and my wants, the hope of simply being and staying employed.
Plus, the hope of bullying whoever will be hired as my junior. Kidding.