A different kind of "performance" review

This July, I had the unexpected chance to be the MC for an office event. My very first time MCing anything, ever.

The invitation came out of nowhere. HR called me in the week before the event. Apparently, they needed someone who could be MC in English. And while I’ve worked as an auditor for three years, not once had I used English formally in my role. So when this opportunity landed on my lap, I knew I couldn't let it pass.

But of course, as soon as I said yes, the insecurities kicked in. That inner voice? Oh, it had a lot to say.
"She speaks better English than you."
"He’s way more charismatic on stage."
"You? You’re just lucky."

And yet, thank God, I’ve lived long enough to recognize that voice. Not as truth, but as fear in disguise. I didn’t try to fight it this time. I let the thoughts come, let them echo, then quietly watched them pass. Maybe those people are better. But this opportunity didn’t land in their inbox. It landed in mine. So I’ll take it, own it, and if I mess up, well, then I’ll learn something.

The night before, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the green tea I had earlier (mental note: don’t do that again). Or maybe it was just nerves. My eyes were heavy, but my thoughts were loud. Every time I tried to read something on my Kindle, it slipped out of my hands. My body was tired, but my mind refused to power down.

Then came the day.

My hands and feet were ice. My brain wasn’t buzzing anymore, but my tongue kept tripping over itself. And for the first time, I truly understood why people warm up their voices before going on stage. You know, doing that ridiculous "brrr-brrr-lalala-aiueo" thing to loosen their jaw and get the words flowing.

And then suddenly, it was over.

Warmth returned to my body. My shoulders relaxed. I blinked and thought, Wait… that was it? I wanted to say something profound, something reflective, but nothing came. People were already exiting the room. I shook some hands. Then I went home and had dinner with my daughter. 

It was one of those days you’re sure will go terribly only to find out, against all odds, it turned out just fine. Maybe even great (at least to me personally). I told my daughter all about it. She wasn’t quite as impressed as I hoped, but I couldn't care. I went to bed that night completely spent… and completely content.

I didn’t expect to enjoy being an MC. At first, I just saw it as a chance to finally put my English to good use. But I was wrong. I ended up loving every second of it. Even the cold hands. Even the tangled tongue. I enjoyed the process especially. The rehearsals, the tweaks, the preparation. I loved facing challenge when things didn’t go as planned and I had to change the script mid-way. I loved watching the playback afterward, catching moments I could polish for next time (hopefully there's another). But most of all, I loved how it made me feel. Like I had reconnected with a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a while. A more confident me. It was a reminder that part of me is still here, just waiting for the right place and time.

And if another opportunity comes around?
Yes. I’d MC again in a heartbeat.

 

 

Ctrl + Alt + Cry

Tired, but these legs keep walking

Losing focus, but my brain keeps talking

Needing quiet, but I still keep speaking

Fingers sore, but they just keep typing

Back is aching, but I stay in my seat

Head is heavy, can't call it a defeat

Eyes staring at cells that never ends

Spreadsheets and files that never pretend

I scroll, I click, again and again

Each day feels the same, stuck in this chain

Purpose pending

Today was difficult, but I stood strong. Well, sat strong.

I’ve been interviewing at least 20 people every day since Monday. For someone who could go days without seeing another soul and not feel lonely, being surrounded by this many faces daily has drained every last drop of my social battery.

This morning, I woke up completely empty. No energy, no spark, not even enough willpower for a light workout. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. But I had to get up and get ready. So I did.

I took a cold shower to jolt my mind awake, trying to look at least somewhat presentable, knowing I'd be doing another marathon of conversations today.

On the way to the office, my supervisor casually brought up a few things I hadn’t done, plus how I should conduct my interviews differently. Apparently, I need to steer them a certain way to get better outcomes. He wasn’t wrong. But man, how timing can make even the most well-meaning feedback taste bitter. 

Feeling sunsetty feeling

This evening, my team and I went to catch the sunset. On the way, I was on a video call with my daughter. It was her first day back at school after a whole month off. Our call was the usual circus: weird faces, random stories, zero logic. But beneath the silliness, I was bracing myself. These long field calls with her usually end with tears and the dreaded question, “When are you coming home?”

I got bitten by a wasp and became philosophical

 

Last night, for the first time in my life, I got bitten by a wasp. On my right palm, right under my pointer finger. And let me tell you, no amount of pain metaphor I can think of will ever do it justice. It wasn’t just a sting; it was a full-body betrayal. My nerves were on fire, my mind spiraled. I actually stood there wondering, “Is this venomous? What if my hand goes numb and I can’t use it again? How do I audit with one hand - left hand?”

So of course, in true small-town audit fieldwork fashion, my team took me to an orang pintar nearby. He cleaned the sting, gave me five different types of mystery pills (which I didn't take because, no thank you, random unlabeled substances). By the time I got back to the hotel, the pain had eased a little. And by morning, it was like it never happened. And maybe because I’m perpetually tired and slightly philosophical these days, I started thinking about how much this whole thing reminds me of my life in the last 3 years.