When I came back from work in the evening, when I was waiting for my husband to come home for dinner after cooking, I opened Xiao Fuxing's latest essay collection "A Thousand Miles of Fireworks in March".
After ten minutes, I barely read a word, and my mind was full of things I was doing in the company during the day:
In the morning, I obviously sent my address to the courier brother, and he had to call ** to raise the bar with me and say that he didn't receive a text message;
Demands that are not understood in multiple, repeated, and multi-departmental communication;
full of anticipation of the year-end bonus and the disappointment after seeing the final figures;
Remorse for being overly emotional in communicating something with a subordinate may hurt someone;
The team members played more than 30 ** to help the leader to book a private room for dinner tomorrow night (because tomorrow is Chinese New Year's Eve);
These seemingly intense but actually ordinary things, sometimes dissatisfied in my heart, unwilling and sometimes comforting myself.
Budgets, expenses, compliance, risks, data reports, costs, filings, ......Thoughts are flying all over the sky, and the mood of class is not worthy of prose at all.
This kind of mood to look at prose is really insulting to prose.
From an office worker to a family member and a social person, I always have to go through a long time before people and hearts can be withdrawn from the company. This is my drawback.
When my husband got home, I started to tell him about what happened in the company during the day, and I was thinking about the whole meal.
For the first time, I found myself so compelled to talk about things that I couldn't say, even though the man across from me might not understand the details and the logic behind them.
Today there is another insight: there is a saying:It is God who changes oneself, and it is neuropathy who always wants to change others. But who is God, who is a psychopath, who can always be a god, who has not been a neurotic, who can say for sure?
March fireworks dream of a thousand miles, ten years of old things turn back", this is Yu Dafu's poem. It's been ten years since I thought I'd be working right away.
When I was in the last company, when I was very annoyed by some business and sales, I secretly thought: When I retire, I must write these strange things as **. It's not retirement yet, and just five years later, I've forgotten all about it.
People will selectively forget bad things, no matter how angry, incomprehensible, and shocked you were at the time.
What is really remembered is the beautiful things, the things that have touched your heart and soul.
Does the word "wash and sleep" only refer to the act of washing? Most likely, it is to wash away the unhappy things during the day.