I wake up feeling rested. This morning, I choose to write despite the desire to work out. Writing should win every morning, because it’s the best time for the brain.

The black chalkboard sparks creativity with a mundane shopping list. Utilitarian yet surprisingly satisfying to write on the load-bearing wall. Does this bring me back to childhood, before the introduction of white-board or transparency projectors?

Creative juice flows, and here I sit on a wooden table supported by two metallic trestle legs. To my right, the big window opens to a set of luscious leaves. In front of me sits two sets of potted plants from thoughtful friends. Straight ahead lies the balcony, and the end unit faces no specific unit except a red brick wall. To the left, I see the sparkly kitchen counter and the sunburst mirror that must be hung up soon. I see a friend’s writing on the chalkboard, “S was here and she loved it”

I’ve just caught up on the past 12 days. Not the best writing I’ve done, but done and caught up I am after being homeless for four months.

“This is a writer’s apartment. This is a great seat to write from!”

Funny. I thought the same thing. My friend’s fiancé and I have similar taste. Talking to him helps me understand how others feel around me. We are both sure and certain which must be unnerving to most.

It’s been 12 days since I last wrote… why does it sound like an awkward catholic confession?

A knock on the door. A young man noticed someone living here and was curious. It jars me. The cabinet guy asks me if I live alone. The woman inside is terrified. Most violence against women are inflicted by those she knows. Questions are ignored and conversations abruptly ends with sharpness of her tongue.

I stick out my hand for a handshake. Instead, they give me hugs. They are the same age as my younger siblings. I forget how much holder I am, often confusing myself as the young 22 year old. It’s been over 15 years since I’ve entered the professional working realm.

A good decade of experience ahead of most people in the team. I forget this often and confuse myself to as the novice, not the expert.

Have you been stuck in the past? Are you having difficulty for seeing the world as the experienced professional that you’ve become?

I cancel all meetings to protect time for the handover that is 28 days overdue. Instead of 20 business days, I have 3 days to do this. I wasn’t procrastinating. I wasn’t slacking. I was simply too busy with the old job that took up 11 hour days.

Does it matter? Six months from now, everyone (including me) would have forgotten the difficulties of doing two jobs, and I’ll be measured on outputs. And thus, I must focus on the urgent and important. I must step away from the not urgent and not important.

How do I categorize between the two? The constraint is always time and people. Nothing else matters.

I just want to go home but prioritize work drinks with management consultants leaving on Friday. I’m on time, but that means I’m early in South African terms.

One of the three new gents I meet engages me in conversation about supply chain and procurement. He’s bringing ex-InBev experts into his domain to leverage their expertise and experience. The two names he mentions… are the people I used to sit next to just three years ago.

We exchange tips and offers of assistance, and I know why I protected time for this event. I had wanted to go home to work out. To unpack. I had intended on staying for only an hour, which turns into 3. I have fun. I meet new people. I remind myself to say ‘yes’ to more networking events.

Monday morning. I know this week will fly by like the rest. I could work longer today, but I choose gym instead. I go check out a nearby gym and flirt with the idea of a switch.

Shiny people with stylish gear work out in brand new equipment.

Rowing machines are also brand new, and haven’t been broken in. The workout is tougher due to additional friction. This must be the first time I’ve ever used a new rowing machine. It’s a younger crowd, and by 5pm, all the machines are taken.

The lounge area looks out into the joburg skyline, and I admire the pink hues of the day’s sunset as I shiver and shake from the coldness from dry sweat.

Working out is not only good for the body. It’s good for my soul.

The light turns red at the lonely intersection. A destitute man starts to wash the windshield, and the driver grows agitated and turns on the wipers. The man continues to wash away. We lock eyes, and his sorrow is reflected through his grey eyes. The light turns green, and I drive away with regret. I wish I had given him money. I wish things were easier for more people.

Start the day with catch up Zoom with West coast friends. What beautiful faces. What melodious voices. The three of us dedicating time to one another. Nine hour time difference. It’s 9:30 in the evening for them. I wake up 6am to wake up slowly, to open the cold Saturday.

Mundane topics emerge. Work. Family. Significant others. Looks. Feels. Child. Changes.

We smile. We laugh.
We complain. We cheer.

Two hours later, they turn in for the evening, and I am just starting mine.

We prioritize and time for the things that matter. The thing that matters to me most are relationships and the people. Everything else is ancillary. What’s the most important thing for you?

Younger colleagues are launching a new product line this afternoon, and so I stop by to check in. It’s lunch time, and I don’t see my colleagues who promised to show support. I take a soccer ball and head over to the building. I dribble the ball for an hour and provide free campaign. I tell everyone to come down and support this exciting event! People look on and wonder why I’m dribbling and passing a soccer ball at work. I have fun.

Work can be fun because I make it so.

He’s annoying, but he asks good questions. He’s filling the role that had been vacant for far too long, despite my raising issues and concerns to the head of department. He cares. He takes things personally. He does his best to represent his customers’ needs. No wonder he’s annoying. He causes friction.

We need more people like him in our projects.