Wednesday, August 13


Work is doing my head in. I’m not sure if it’s work itself, my colleagues, the stuffy environment, the undrinkable coffee or the fact that there’s no men. Whenever I look at the piles of paperwork in front of me I feel despair. The fact is that most of my energy is not devoted to work, but to the power struggle that goes on.
In every office there is a struggle for power, especially when there are many girls.
Being in power means being on top, being able to come late, leave early, write condescending e-mails to colleagues, boss people around. It means being able to consume other peoples time without giving anything in return. It means that you can leave your dirty plates and cups in front of you and someone else might pick them up.
I always wanted to think I was beyond the power struggle, but I’m not. It might take a few years at the Shaolin Monastery to be detached. I try breathing techniques, yoga, practice extreme politeness and have a zen approach to life, but all I feel is rage.