Working Life

Come another five days will officially mark the second month since I've been deemed by societal standards to be 'gainfully employed'. More specifically, I'm working in a local property consultancy, in the property valuation department.

If I should have to sum up the past two months of on-the-job training with one word, no word can describe the experience better than 'intense'. Work commitments have been clawing at my personal time. I've fought back valiantly. While I've won a few battles, it seems like the war is going work's way. Training plans are thrown into disarray at a moments' notice, whether is it by a owner insisting on an appointment at 9pm or the over zealous agent asking for a weekend session. 

The upside is that I've really been learning a lot regarding what makes a property worth its valuation, as well as seeing the various types of furnishes and fittings in residential developments. To some extent, I can roughly gauge the price a selected property can fetch on the open market off the back of my head now. The downside is that my climbing standard has dropped drastically, leaving me feeling disenchanted. I also get barely enough sleep. As usual, I've been driving myself hard. I hope my body holds up. If past trends can be any gauge at all, I might just faint again.

A typical day goes like this. Squeeze with every other drone humming along to the Singapore machinery on public transport. Surviving the fight to get to office, I heave a sigh of relief. A stack of new cases, dumped unceremoniously on my table, greets me. In particular, I see the words 'URGENT' cheerfully illuminated in the various shades that highlighters are capable of. What a happy start to the morning. I rummage through the pile, and lo and behold, I find another 'VERY URGENT. DUE BY 12PM' case surreptitiously tucked within. A ticking time bomb. Hastily gulping down a mouth of very-hot tea, I work feverishly to clear these two cases. Oh no, how time flies! It's 9am already, and I had better grab the company car and get my ass down to an appointment in Bishan by 930am. I drive as safely as recklessly possible, zooming around the island to see another four or five houses after that. On even more awesome days, i.e. tomorrow, I'll be going to conduct valuations for up to ten houses. In short, that means I rush to each destination, eat on the go, barely even have time to pee and catch forty winks while waiting for the traffic lights to change colour. 

Looking like I've been blown in by the wind, with my hair sticking out at weird angles, I stumble through the front door of the office at 4pm. The receptionist sees me, and passes me some faxes from various organizations (asking for the report to be faxed over ASAP) with a cloying, almost sickening, smile. I pull out the stack of cases from my bag. Their statuses have been upgraded from 'appointments to go' to 'reports to type'. The onus is on me to prepare them before the deadlines. I yank out the required documents (bankers' confirmation, lawyer's legal documents, land title deeds, site and floor plans, transaction data, etc) and lay them out on whatever available space. The mess appears haphazard to the untrained eye, but within the disorder there exists a harmony. Scanning the documents for the required items with a seasoned eye, I quickly churn out report after report. While mulling over the more suitable comparables to use for a particularly complex case, the phone rings abruptly. Alas, the client is requesting for the appointment tomorrow to be postponed. Great, now my perfectly scheduled work day tomorrow is screwed. You want to make a voodoo doll and stick some pins into it, but you defer to the client. Customer satisfaction is important, they say. 

Someone must have pressed the fast forward button, how come it's 6pm already!? Peering into my in-tray.. a huge stack. Looking to my 'reports to type' tray.. even more towering. Absentmindedly I cusp the mug against my lips and take a sip. BRRR it's ice cold. Looks like it's gonna be a long night.. 

I toil till 11pm, grinding down the death-stack into a less intimidating behemoth. I have won the battle today, but tomorrow it will rear up its ugly head again. Like the many-headed hydra of ancient times, I can cleave off one of its grotesque tops, but two will sprout in its place. 

When will the war be won?