Random chatter to pass your time
A book, a run, a conversation in a Bolt ride, in the hallways, in the forest, or train platform; and the strange burnout hiding in our so-called “mundane” work days.
C lent me a book last week. I didn’t ask what it was about. I just took it like I was saying yes to a cup of coffee.
Now I can’t put it down.
It’s The Schopenhauer Cure, something between a novel and a philosophical group therapy session. It reminds me of Sophie’s World, except less whimsical, more raw. It's like a crash course on thinking, masked as fiction, which somehow makes the thinking easier to bear. A gentle ambush of existential questions in the form of a story. Exactly the kind of book that finds you when your brain is tired, but your soul’s still trying to make sense of things.
And lately, there’s been a lot to make sense of.
Two overextended humans saying, “me too.”
Monday
I rode the work shuttle with JF, and we shared a brief, sleepy chat from the said school bus to the school bar/canteen. We both take the early train. We both get home too late. We both feel like life is this short intermission between commutes. It wasn’t a deep conversation. Just one of those soft exchanges that stays with you. Two overextended humans saying, “me too.”
Later that day, P invited me for a walk-lunch. Sandwiches eaten on a bench in the forest. She talked about her upcoming days off, how running clears her mind. She lives close to work but still feels the time slipping away too fast. I listened and nodded, and somewhere between her talking and me breathing in the trees, I realized that maybe running appeals to me too, not as fitness, but as a metaphor.
Maybe if I ran, I'd feel like I’m moving away from whatever this exhaustion is.
Then there was D, one of the constant Bolt drivers I book (alongside F), my unexpected therapist. We talk on the way to the train. He’s soft-spoken, philosophical, maybe in his 60s or 70s. I told him how time outside of work feels like a luxury none of us can afford anymore. He offered quiet wisdom, the kind that doesn’t try to fix things, just holds them up to the light.
Those 15-minute rides always feel like coming up for air.
I met A, a cheerful Greek guy, at work. He was delighted by my name: Greek in origin, not in blood. There’s something magical about how Greek people react to Greek names. Like they’re meeting an old friend in a new body.
Yes, forest. I will romanticize anything that gets me out of an office chair.
Then, thanks to a delayed train (funny how the worst things give us the best moments), I got home early. That sounds paradoxical, I know. I thought I’d shop to refresh my wardrobe. But nothing felt worth the swipe. Nothing looked worth it. Everything felt like an effort. I came home and just sat there, feeling...exhausted. Not sleepy. Just worn thin. The kind of tired where you don’t even want to make plans to fix it.
I thought about taking time off. But when? There’s never a good time. Work keeps stretching to fill every pocket of time, even the ones you swore you’d keep for yourself. It’s not the doing of the work that’s exhausting, it’s the pretending to be busy during the hours you could’ve used for actual rest. There’s something broken in that math.
B told me to start saying no. He’s right. I said I needed time. Space. Solitude. But I also want connection. Attention. Invitations. I want both things, which feels like wanting nothing and everything at once.
Lately, my body’s been screaming what I won’t say out loud. Jaw tension. Migraines. My back hurts too. A quiet panic starts in my throat and spreads. I text my therapist. I want to vomit. I want to call in sick, not just from work, from everything. Full-body anxiety that shows up like a push notification. I thought about calling my doctor and asking if I could be medically excused from “functioning.” Not forever, just long enough to reboot.
But I can’t. As of this morning, my calendar is booked until November. How did that even happen?
I thought about Ch, B’s friend. He lives without social media and seems more connected than the rest of us. Has hobbies. Meets people. Enjoys his own company. I’ve muted all notifications, activated “Do Not Disturb.” But now, I compulsively check my phone, fearing I missed something.
It’s a twisted cycle.
Maybe I should do what Ch does. Go full SMS-only monk mode. See what silence really feels like.
Honestly, I might just start disappearing. Not dramatically. Just...quietly unavailable. I just want a little room to breathe. To have a morning without rushing. To feel like I’m living in my life, not just speed-running through it. I want to break free.
The train ride home was peaceful. I read, zoned out.
Tuesday
Dragged myself to work. It ended up being… okay? Lunch with the team, casual hallway chitchats, a reassuring 1-on-1 with my manager.
Sometimes, just being seen makes a difference.
The train ride home was peaceful. I read, zoned out. But the moment I got through the door, that same dread was waiting for me like a bad habit. I barely had time to breathe before tomorrow started creeping in again. One tiny trigger, and of course, poor B got the emotional overflow. He’s patient. I wish I didn’t need him to be.
Wednesday
Cooler day. Felt like winter was sneaking back. Commute was smooth. I had my book and my comfort podcast (Silly Gang Sa Gabi). I blocked out the whole morning for a live call with a professor in Australia with several individuals connecting in from all over the world. One of those calls that both drains and affirms you.
Lunch was quiet, the kind that doesn’t try too hard. The food was mid, but the company made up for it. I had a full plate in the afternoon, and managed to tick most of it off. Small wins.
Add some hallway banter here and there. I’m definitely not little miss popular, but it still surprises me how many people I know from work (or how many of them are interested enough to stop and talk), and it hasn’t even been a year yet.
The train home was better than usual. I got to talk with Bi, she’s that familiar presence on these long commutes, and I deeply appreciate her company. Honestly one of the greater joys of my weekdays.
While waiting on the platform, a man struck up a conversation after overhearing me mention forest picnic tables (I must’ve sounded unusually excited about it).
Bi & I chatted for the whole 40-minute ride. Always a lovely time. She told me stories that just crack me up, I got so teary-eyed from trying not to laugh out loud. She’s so hilarious.
After that, I wandered into the Carrousel du Louvre. I won’t normally go there to shop. Just going there and bumping into the slow tourists makes me feel annoyed and sympathise with Parisians who get all grumpy, when you just want to get through but you have these tourists gallivanting without a care in the world (I guess that’s fair, they’re on holidays - true - and I’m not which gets me even more worked up!). I wanted to go to the pop-up store to try a pair of boat shoes I saw on the store’s website, but they didn’t have them in stock! The shop attendants there were lovely, though!
I went to a nearby shop to try on a coat from a French brand. Oversized, but it fit me just right, a small miracle. The attendant told me they didn’t carry anything above a French size 40 (ouch?), which made the coat feel like even more of a fluke. We talked about the metro, Paris life, and how she thought I was from Laos. Her coworker, a 40-year-old Korean woman, apparently loves the Philippines.
I’m trying to create space, even in small, sneaky ways.
We talked about the price of the coat. It was beautiful. And overpriced. I left it behind. No way I’m putting that much money on clothes. What?
It’s true what they say: good company gives you energy. Doesn’t take it away.
I still don’t know where this week is taking me. But between the worn-out train rides, random strangers, tiny bursts of joy, and that quiet ache to break free, I’m starting to see a pattern.
The small escapes keep me going. They don’t fix the exhaustion. But they remind me I’m still here. Still trying. Still catching sunlight between commutes. Maybe that’s enough for now.
There’s no real resolution here. Like I said, this random chatter is to pass your time unproductively. No five-step plan. I’m not quitting social media or anything. I’m simply noticing. I’m trying to want less and feel more. I’m trying to create space, even in small, sneaky ways.
Maybe you’re doing the same. What are your small escapes this week?