Obsidian. ClickUp. Sidekick. Linux OS. Google Suite. Todoist. Notion. Evernote. GTD. Pomodoro. Time Blocks. Atomic Habits. Atomic improvements. Vivaldi. Ye kr ra Hun bkchodi 🤕😂
I am so big on productivity enthusiasm. Today when I started to refine my Fiverr description, all in the name of bare bones truth that I could manage was “I do a lot of things. Some of those that I actually am skilled enough to sell are WordPress CMS management, Commercial Graphic Designing, Videography, Video editing and teaching tools to increase your average productivity.” I don’t know marketing. It’s like I just can’t learn marketing and one of my friends said if you don’t know marketing, it’s seriously bad. You gotta sell yourself as a profitable asset. That’s the bone … I feel like for a business as well, any company, I wanna be an acquirable asset, an employee who knows how to work, and is not just someone nice to have around. Because believe you me, I am bitter. I am not someone just nice to have around (lol!?)
Things are okayish. Baba ne kha he k even if it is costing 100,000 RS, start the teeth treatment. He said “I will figure something out”. He never lets me be afraid. And I guess he does this by never showing me his scar(e)s. Even though he is not an inspiration as a husband, I feel like I can’t escape this man’s shadow in some ways. I am too much of a coward as she says often. One of the first thing that comes to mind, and this goes as back as I have a memory of, he never was comfortable around any woman except mom. Dad would go out of our quarters if any neighborhood aunty would come to our house. Even with my mom’s sisters or any other woman, baba would just go outside, even in hot sizzling summer, he would be sitting outside the house or pretending to water the plants or sth, in our Risalpur quarters, and returning from school with a bag on my back, I would see him under the Sun and instantly know, oh aunty ayi hongi! If a guest came in our own village home, he would do this fake-coughing thing to let the women inside know he’s coming in to go to kitchen or cross over to the other side of house or something. I took this one from him but maybe not as intense lol!
And there’s a lot of other things. Not too much but .. too good in the things that were.
Things are going well on my side. Party ki senior management ko bta dya he k I won’t be able to give dawat the next few months owing to FYP, Job, last semester work and now this dental treatment thing. They are cool with it. I am continuing as secretary finance and meanwhile getting tarbity in the fortnightly 3hours class. She is doing okay. I have … peaced out my pace. I still work an average of 6 hours everyday, that’s it. Things are good. Well. Not good, well.
uhmm…that is it. This is the same bench on which I sat, the same place too, after having that fuckeroo of a breakup. And today, things are so different. I have grown, with age. The prospects out there are the same. I am I guess, content. I know with the way things are heading, I may have to be a bykea guy someday. Or even start a shoe-polisher person business. I see these people daily. In a capitalist society (our society) these people get sympathies but no dignity. Still, I am content that no one can take my mind. My ideas. My education. My ideology. My skills. Me. And Tess. Sticks and stones and poverty may hurt me and family but .. no one will conquer the brain in this skull. On this bench, once, I died. Ab Kya hi ho jaega or, lol. Suicide hi krlenge. Let the world think, for #1, no one cares and #2, I don’t give a fuck at this point now. Fuck this shit!
Yup. Bye.
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