Bathrooms and Resignation
Before I knew it, it was June, and the calendar had officially entered summer. The hydrangeas on the street were blooming with an unbelievable beauty, and I always wondered who was taking care of them, how they went from zero to full bloom in a single night while everyone was fast asleep. On the way home, I couldn't help but buy one to put in the entryway, yearning for that purple, abundant romance, though I'm not very good at taking care of them.
Bathroom
There is no washing machine in the new house yet, so once a week I ride my bike to a nearby laundromat. I buy a cup of coffee, grab a magazine, and try to let my mind go blank for an hour, staying away from my phone. As soon as the timer goes off, I rush to bring the wrinkled, spin-dried clothes home to hang them up.
Choosing a favorite playlist, I can spend an entire afternoon in the bathroom hanging clothes, folding laundry, and washing my undergarments. I decided on almost all the paint, decorations, and furniture in the house, choosing the styles and layouts I like. The shower curtain is a collaboration between Marimekko and IKEA, pulling out a vibrant but not overwhelming pattern between the pearl-white walls, beige waterproof floor mat, and oak-colored floor. From far away, I can hear the teaching assistant working from home and attending meetings; occasionally, he comes out to pour water or use the restroom, and we just quietly share a smile.
When I walked into the room with a stack of folded white T-shirts, he called me over to look at his computer screen, saying that watching me hang and fold laundry in the bathroom reminded him of this song.
Simple, repetitive actions are reassuring, and as I smell the scent of fabric softener, the tension in my whole body relaxes. Every time I finish doing laundry, it feels like pressing refresh. The soup stains on my clothes from eating while watching videos, or the skin-colored foundation left on the collar when I tiredly pull off my clothes before taking off my makeup—I always feel the week slipping away rapidly during these moments of stillness. When hanging clothes, I always pull the bathroom window wide open; sometimes the wind is so strong that it blows the toothbrushes and skincare products on the sink askew. If it doesn't rain, the clothes are completely dry by the next morning.
The bathroom isn't entirely peaceful and wonderful.
When I get into a heated argument with the teaching assistant and feel like I'm going crazy and can't communicate, I hide in the bathroom and cry. He doesn't follow me; he just lets me have some quiet time there. The wooden floor isn't too cold even in chilly weather, and curled up there, I feel like I'm the only person left on Earth. The sound of the wind outside and the shouting of drunk passersby feel like hallucinations, with only a small fluorescent light stuck to the all-white walls and ceiling. Fortunately, there is no door here, and he always comes to the hallway at about the same time with tissues to ask if I'm hungry or if I want to go eat something together. All the smoke of the outburst instantly dissipates; a gentle hug is better than words.
Once, when we met, I was probably complaining about trivial things regarding the teaching assistant, and Lai reminded me that 'No one is perfect.' That's right. We try so hard to find the legendary perfect partner, the perfect other half, but how futile that search is.
Resignation and Being a Manager
I had worked at my previous job for exactly one year. When I left, there wasn't much sadness; I waved my sleeves and looked back at the glass window I wiped almost every day, feeling no ripples in my heart. Many people asked me why I wanted to resign and what direction I wanted to develop in next. Once they found out that my next job had nothing to do with my current one and was in a completely different industry and field, they would continue to ask: 'Have you wanted to enter this field for a long time? Why do you want to do this?'
Among these questions, whenever there was one about the future or ideals, the answer was always: 'I don't know either.'
The contradiction is that the reason I wanted to—and had to—resign was that I couldn't see a future in that position; I couldn't imagine what kind of growth I could have there in one or three years, but I didn't actually know what would happen after leaving. The only thing I was sure of was that if I reached my former supervisor's position in three years, it wouldn't be exciting at all.
How much passion does it take to do a job? During the wall-hitting phase of changing jobs, I always complained to Zong-You, wondering whether skills and endurance were more important, or the sparkling eyes displayed during an interview. We both whined while blindly supporting each other, and eventually, we both got offers. Before starting work, I luxuriously gave myself a month and a half of summer vacation.
Last Saturday morning, the teaching assistant, his friend, and I—four of us in total—were chatting in the park by the harbor. F, who works as a PM in the IT industry, said that colleagues from different departments praised him for having grown a lot. On one hand, he felt very happy, but on the other, he couldn't help but wonder if his past self was too useless. Although the teaching assistant is a manager, perhaps due to his personality, he rarely praises his subordinates, mostly giving feedback and discussions focused on work performance. Plus, since his subordinates are all professionally trained and have rich social experience, he feels he really isn't in a position to say they have had any 'growth'.
Although I have always felt like an imposter who is not up to the task, I accidentally became a manager too. Most of my subordinates are university students or part-timers, and I had to teach them store operations almost from scratch. Using words like 'progress' and 'growth' is truly appropriate and fitting. I'm used to the Starbucks-style 'gratitude and praise' technique, and in a year, I haven't lost my temper with anyone. Facing my subordinates, I mostly feel full of gratitude—gratitude and more gratitude—to the point of almost becoming a Buddha. Instead, my boss told me I couldn't play the 'bad cop' when I needed to be strict. N, who was poached by a major TV station, nodded vigorously when hearing this. N said that he mostly praises people, and when he is praised, he sometimes feels it's undeserved. Plus, since he is very clear about what he has accomplished at each stage and to what extent, he isn't easily influenced by the evaluations of others.
Dark clouds slowly gathered in the distance. We stood up with our unfinished coffee cups, chatting about how different industries, different positions, and different experiences have made us different managers and different people. In that instant, I suddenly realized that my own growth was manifested in this conversation—I was finally able to evaluate my work performance and results more objectively, no longer impulsively charging ahead like a One Piece partner, and gradually able to cross the threshold of language to build diverse social relationships.
2024.05.26 That time was truly happy.
On the last Sunday I worked at the store, at 5:50 PM when we were about to close, Liang and Shixiang, whom I hadn't seen in a long time, stood at the store entrance looking around cautiously. As soon as I saw them, I screamed with excitement, completely disregarding my image and face. The three of us talked for a long time, as if we had returned to the days when we worked part-time at Starbucks together, carefree (I only needed to worry about my visa).
Liang is very awkward and always unable to keep in touch with people from his previous social circles. After graduating from high school, he didn't keep in touch with classmates; after graduating from university, he only associated with people from his workplace; after quitting his part-time job, he stopped seeing everyone. He was dragged by Shixiang to visit, and he was still struggling and wanting to run away until the very last second he stepped into the store, but once he actually saw us, he felt incredibly happy. Liang smiled and said he knew this wasn't very good and was reflecting on it and trying to overcome it.
Before we each took our own transport home, Liang, who is a year younger than me, spoke like an old man: 'Oh, seeing you always working so hard makes me feel like I can continue to work hard from tomorrow and next week too.' I laughed out loud, thinking to myself—I'm the one who feels that way.
2024.05.28 Bluebird Action
Watching everything happening in Taiwan remotely feels like a magical, realistic, absurd dream. Many friends around me went to the scene, and Lai also participated in the response event in Tokyo. While thanking President Tsai for steering the ship and leading Taiwan through these important eight years, we counted the ten years since the Sunflower Movement, seeing who had changed and who couldn't hide their greedy faces for power, shouting, 'I don't want misogynistic Taiwan independence.'
Looking at everyone's Instagram stories, I think of Ji-Hong, that figure who spoke passionately at 318. At that time, I didn't know I would attend Yang-Ming University, nor did I know that my life was about to intersect with that person who looked like a star from afar. Now, Ji-Hong has been gone for a year, and his eternal thirty years are about to begin a second cycle. Just thinking about it, tears well up uncontrollably.
Wishing you smooth sailing, Taiwan.
Missing that senior who was always rushing to the front, debating with me, and inspiring me to bravely move forward toward my goals.
