Impossible

I missed those moments when I did so well in my job raking in contracts with much ease.
Complications at site are easily settled by just making sure I attend site meeting in high slit skirts and high heels. And sales reports were so much easier to do as the number of 0,000,000 just keep going.
It is now 4.45am of the 3rd day of 2010 and I am still awake making notes and scribbles to make some contents for a sales and marketing plan. While going thru 3 diaries. While reading thru ministry websites. While going thru costing. While looking for a way out of the rut.

What if I overestimated my capability by committing a forecast of RM60,000 a month worth of sales? After all, there are times when RM1,000 seems impossible too. I shivers at the thought of failing again. What a thought! On the 3rd day of a new year. a year when the world economy is expected to improve.

RM60,000 does not sound like a lot to people who sells rice, who sells microchips, who sell services, who sells properties, who sells branded bags. Then why does it sound like a tonne of weight on my shoulder? RM60,000 x 12 months is not even 1 million RM worth of batik that I can sell.

I could have become a write shall I not be forced to get my ass into learning about atoms and nucleic acids. I could have become an author of several books shall I not be coaxed into memorisng the coagulation of some chemical substances which I cannot even pronounce. Maybe I am now a journalist going around the world travelling and writing stuff on Oprah Winfrey and doing freelance scriptwriting and getting to do a few episodes of Mr Bean.

And I am now here. Here. At where I am here. Here. No longer hoping for a twist of fate. Only to hope to sell at least 100 pcs of batik of RM380 per piece.

Fuck.
That's only RM38,000..
Fuck.
I am doomed.
Fuck.