Week 1
I started September 2025 trying to hold on to calm for as long as I could. The month began on a Monday; I went to the office for four days and tried to stay productive. My contract is ending soon — will I still have work next month? I don’t know. In the face of uncertainty, I tried to stay present, though my nerves were frayed.
Coursework brought its own anxiety. Our team was formed and given some reading, but while the other team had their weekly tasks, we were still circling materials. Over the weekend, I had both class and recruitment duties (I’m on the panel, not the interviewee). Two interviews clashed with class, and though I felt embarrassed to ask, I requested rescheduling — even offering to take them during my lunch break.
After one interview in the morning, I joined class, only to find it starting late and lacking clarity. Tasks were distributed, and I realized I had no idea what mine entailed — nor the chance to clarify doubts. Another batchmate had a similar task but already knew the technology. Normally that would help, but in this program, people rarely collaborate. Every time I’ve asked this person for help, I got delayed or curt replies. It takes a lot of energy for me to reach out — and when met with coldness, part of me regrets making the effort at all.
The week ended with unease building in me. How will I survive this semester — or even this week?
Week 2
The second week rolled in like waves that never stop hitting the shore. After days of hesitation and self-pity, I documented my understanding of the project, listed doubts, and sent it to our TA. When reminders didn’t help, I asked for a quick call — and finally made progress.
A small gesture of help from batchmates also meant a lot; at least I didn’t feel completely left out. We also spoke to a start-up team about their work. The person explained even basics with patience — a luxury in our field. The week was still full of questions like Is this even relevant to me? but compared to the first, it was more productive.
At work, I’d been training a junior developer for months. I taught her everything despite suspecting she might be moved elsewhere. And yes — just when she was ready, she got pulled into another project. My position too is uncertain, but I still stay true to my responsibilities here. I went to the office a few days, though mid-week classes kept shifting plans.
Week 3
Restlessness followed me into Week 3. Researching and studying with my goldfish attention span felt impossible. Still, I found some useful papers and began reading. When the professor canceled our mid-week call, it strangely motivated me to keep going. I worked from home early in the week to avoid losing momentum.
Work slowed down again. I had to write code and automate processes, but the company’s new security policy blocked most AI tools I relied on. It feels like being dragged back into the stone age. I searched for alternatives, found none.
One morning while going to work, a woman fought with the driver over change. When she turned to me for help, I lied about not having any. Later, I regretted both the lie and my inaction. That evening, when I was overcharged at a store, I took it as punishment for my silence earlier.
By Friday, I took a day off to rest and prepare for Saturday’s class. But the professor rescheduled, disrupting my carefully arranged interview schedule. I reached out to candidates to shift timings, but only one agreed, barely helping. I joined class briefly to share updates, then spent the rest of the day taking interviews. Listening to innovative solutions always inspires me — conversations I wish I had in my professional circle, where gossip tends to dominate instead.
Sunday was quieter. I poked around my capstone project and watched a couple of episodes of Bon Appetit, Your Majesty. Yet, an unexplained sadness lingered in my heart.
Week 4
The last week of the month rolled in, and my heart grew heavier. It began with the birthday of a friend I can no longer wish. Parting ways is sometimes right, but years later your heart still aches, forgetting why the chapter had to stay closed.
At work, motivation came and went. I debated taking a break, and after much hesitation, finally informed my team — only for new hurdles to appear. My capstone project barely moved forward.
For the first time in weeks, I had no interviews to take. Though opportunities matter, the constant drives have left me drained. With no professor in class, we students had a short discussion instead. On Sunday, a kind batch-mate helped me with some code. Everyone else in my team knows this technology; I don’t. AI can bridge gaps, but it can’t replace real human experience.
The weekend ended with the finale of Bon Appetit, Your Majesty. I had waited anxiously for a happy ending, as if it would make my own life lighter. The ending was satisfying, but my heart was already too heavy to feel it. As the new week began, my break started. I poured my energy into writing a blog on the series — my excitement overflowing after so long.
I had hoped festivals would refresh me with family time. But life shifted again. My phone died while we were out pandal hopping. I’d been struggling with it, but couldn’t buy a new one with mounting expenses. As responsibilities have grown, I can no longer relate to “retail therapy.” If I had that money, I’d choose actual therapy instead.
I tried to stay calm, though dark clouds weighed on my mind. After dressing up and going out with family after so long, I couldn’t even enjoy the moment. Pain makes me quiet and withdrawn, and my family stays oblivious to all of it.
Some pics from September 2025:
1 & 2: Flowers from the balcony
3: Spontaneous Phuchka party with left-over Chana Masala
4: Waffles after many months
5: Baked Pineapples are pretty cool
6: Birthday Cake
7: Home-cooked veg Hakka noodles with shredded cucumbers
That’s all for today, see you in next one!
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