slow productivity and recovery

This month feels different from my usual Aprils since 2022. It’s slower, much slower, like each day is a long, steady breath. I’m still trying to get used to it. Being alone in the office feels off, like I’m not supposed to be there, yet I still have to justify my salary so I don't makan gaji buta, you know. Some days I’m like, am I working or just… existing professionally??

I’m off audit this time because I dont really have a choice. My body has been screaming for my attention and now I cant ignore it anymore. Honestly, I’m scared of what might happen if I keep pushing it aside, if I keep telling myself “I’ll deal with it after this,” only to follow it with another “after this” that never ends. My body finally forced me to stop. My womb, my muscles, my joints, all of it hurting at once. Even lifting my feet felt heavy. My brain cells are taking a picnic somewhere. I moved through my days in slow motion, like that was the only way I could function. And I know it’s not who I used to be. I remember how fast I could move, especially with coffee in my system. Back then, one cup and suddenly I had main character energy. Now it’s more like buffering… slowly loading.

But sometime in March, it hit me. I hadn’t felt like myself physically since February. Suddenly, it all made sense. It’s the hormonal therapy.

Subuh

I was born on a Friday dawn. That quiet hour when the world is still holding its breath, not yet awake, not fully asleep. The kind of silence that isn’t empty, but waiting. I’ve always wondered what that says about me, and the way I move through life.

Maybe that's why I'm drawn to quiet but not the lonely kind. But the kind of quiet that hums softly, like something about to begin. Also, maybe that's why I find comfort in the in-between. In pauses. Why I linger in the early hours, when the sky is still dim and the world feels honest.

Maybe this is why I find odd comfort in the sound of life arriving, distant footsteps approaching, a car starting, the silence before I press play button on Youtube Music, the first call of the day to pray. Not loud, not yet, just enough to remind me that everything is on its way.

Maybe this is why I feel most like myself when the world hasn’t fully claimed the day, when I can sit with my thoughts before the noise comes in, rushing, with all of its endless to-dos. Because I don’t belong to silence alone, I belong to the kind that waits, that listens, that knows the chaos is coming and welcomes it anyway. I was not made for emptiness. I was made for beginnings. 

A year-end pondering

By the end of this year, I’ve officially lived in Medan for 3 years and 7 months. I still remember those first months: arriving here alone, leaving my family behind for a chance at a better life. There were nights when I questioned my decision (sometimes dramatically, projecting twenty years from now), but there was never really a “reverse” button. The only option was to keep going, consequences included.

Over time, this city somehow grew on me. Maybe it’s the pollution: noise, air, politics. But also the unpolluted parts: the friendliness, the jokes, the harmless “barbarism,” the loud voices that get misunderstood but are actually just… volume enthusiasts. It was like a buy-1-get-2 promotion nobody asked for. I’m grateful to have lived here long enough to appreciate that. My daughter probably got influenced the most as she’s now a passionate storyteller, and honestly sometimes I feel like she’s one monologue away from starting her own YouTube channel. Oh, wait. She already did. 

A cup of matcha, a sip of gratitude

This morning, I stumbled upon a post on Instagram.

Instead of thinking about the challenges in your life, why not count and celebrate little blessings?

Let’s rewind a bit.

For the last three weeks, I almost had no days off. Maybe two Sundays, but those were spent on house chores and groceries. So yesterday, Saturday, the adrenaline wore off and I could finally “hear” my body and surprise surprise! it was exhausted. I needed a full day of rest. But still, Saturdays are for important things first: I took my daughter for her flu vaccine, then we did some stationery shopping. Oddly, Medan’s traffic was unusually heavy. I was worn off after lunch and decided to go home.

Then came today. Sunday. I planned to go to CFD, but my friend has been sick since Friday, and going alone didn’t feel appealing. My daughter had her coding class, and I still felt as drained as yesterday. I decided not to let the day slip away. I grabbed my bag, put on my helmet, with no plan in mind. On the way, I remembered a matcha place I saw on TikTok, and had noticed a few paper bags from the same shop in my office. Someone clearly loved it. And here I am, at Mtch Bar Medan.

So… about those “little celebrations.”

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.