disillusioned.nwd

Marred by a lack of mentorships and wounded by unfair compensation, my drive is depressed. Although a dedicated steward, I found solace being embraced in Law this summer. This is my requiem for other lost workers, and for the mediocre management that squandered our accomplishments with janky job titles and overburdened workloads.

My past work in detailing, permitting, and design feels like a mirage. It was a time when my spirit was rebuked for refusing to capitulate to verbose speculation. Despite being afflicted by the lesions of discrimination, we prevailed against the bureaucratic ghouls born of my own naivete.

You’re the subordinate of a BIM manager who never learned to manage BIM or run a clash model—how does that make sense? The only appreciation for our work came from another general contractor who recognized our efforts. It’s rough knowing that someone in the senior team thinks you’re out to get them. Yeah, I’m the crazy one for singling them out, because what does “make it look good” mean? Shoutout to the office hall monitor, the corporates apparently valued me more during the layoffs. Also, my name isn’t [insert stereotypical name].

Then, you stumble upon stacks of archives—contracts for a prison among other skeletons—and the general contractor is furious the project won’t open on time (rip SoFi 2020 Taylor Swift concert). At this point, you murmur “F— you, too” on the coordination call. You wake up and realize the dream was a nightmare.

Okay, I’ll calm down and enjoy my weekend. I quit.