Odessa Zara's

Alright, this is gonna be a short one because I’m knee-deep in work right now. But an idea popped into my head, and I needed to jot it down to clear my head from some confusing tasks. So, here’s the scoop: I’m currently on a 3-month contract, and I’ll be wrapping it up in just over a month. It might get extended, and honestly, why not? I dodge the whole job hunting scene, which can totally crush your confidence for a bit. Plus, the pay’s a smidge above minimum wage, and there are those sweet perks like free snacks or lunch from office events or just random kindness from coworkers. But here’s the kicker—it’s all desk work, from 10 to 7. I’m starting to crave some adventure or at least some fresh air. Everyone here is super nice, but I can’t help but envy some of my friends whose supervisors are inspiring, motivating, and challenging in a good way. Maybe it’s because I’m stuck in a government gig that doesn’t really support that vibe (swear it’s not my supervisor’s fault!). As this is my

When you don’t like someone, everything they do starts rubbing you the wrong way. My significant other once told me that, and man, it hits home. Recently, someone I don’t really vibe with started crying, and I knew it, but I just didn’t want to care. Part of me, a tiny, petty voice, was like, “ Ugh, are you just looking for attention? ” Meanwhile, the peer counselor side of me jumped in and said, “ Seriously? You call yourself a peer counselor, but you can’t even be empathetic right now? ”  Cue the internal conflict. I’m supposed to be the peer counselor—basically a volunteer “angel” for people. But here I am, feeling more like I’ve got a devil on my shoulder. I just didn’t want to ask what was wrong. I didn’t want to listen if they reached out. They’re not my client; I’m not responsible for them. But is that evil , or is it just being human ? That’s the question bouncing around in my head. And then, because the universe has a wicked sense of humor, they reached out to me. I felt corne

I visited a colleague in the hospital today. She’s just a few years older than me—still young—but diagnosed with cancer. I can’t imagine how I’d feel in her place, like my world had fallen apart.  I went with an old friend, and we caught up, laughing both before and after the visit. But later, as I sat at my desk, I started to wonder: is it really okay to enjoy ourselves like that while my colleague is suffering? She smiled, sure, but there’s no way she’s truly "okay" with what she’s going through.  Of course, we didn’t laugh in front of her. After the visit, we still mentioned her now and then, sent our prayers her way, but we also got back to our own lives. Meanwhile, she’s left facing this unimaginable hardship—alone.  Is that unfair? Or is that just life? People can support you, but in the end, you face your struggles on your own. They can still laugh while you can’t even muster a smile. Here I am, working in a lively, vibrant office, while she’s likely lying in a hospi

Do you ever feel like you're still on holiday, waiting to return to the classroom and see your friends again? It's a strange feeling, isn't it? For me, it's a constant thought, even though graduation is already in the past. The two years of the pandemic stole precious moments from me, moments I could have spent in a real classroom. It feels like just yesterday I was sitting behind my friends, listening to the professor, and marveling at my classmates, thinking, "Wow, they're so smart. What will they become in the future?" Well, now I'm living in that future. It's only been a year since graduation, but through social media, I see my friends thriving. Some work at consulting agencies, some are in government roles, others have stayed in academia, while some have ventured into business or banking. I'm a real adult now, with real responsibilities and priorities. It's surreal to realize that I can't just meet up with my friends easily anymore

Ever thought about what it would be like to live in someone else’s body for a year? I stumbled across a social media post yesterday that posed this exact question: "Imagine you swapped bodies with your loved one and had to give it back in a year. What would you do?" Instantly, I knew I'd keep it as healthy as possible. Seeing my beloved one sick is the last thing I'd ever want. I'd feed it well, exercise regularly, and care for it like my grandma nurtures her garden. As I kept scrolling (procrastination at its finest, I should get back to work),  I found another post that struck a chord. Someone shared, "My therapist always refers to me in the third person, and it helps SO MUCH to forgive, love, and care for myself like I do for my loved ones." Wow, that hit home. Not just in terms of physical health, but mentally too. I tend to blame myself for every little failure. If I could see myself as another person, I wouldn't be so harsh. I mean, I always tr

I wondered: maybe, just maybe, being imperfect could actually make me a better counselor. I mean, aren't we all flawed? Maybe, just maybe, it's because, like Marco (from Attack on Titan) once said to Jean, understanding weakness makes you stronger in helping others. So here I am, flawed and all, juggling two roles as a volunteer peer counselor. Funny thing is, the more I help others, the more I realize I need help too. Take yesterday, for example. I sat down with someone struggling with time management, communication, and overthinking – all issues I battle myself. But being a peer counselor isn't about handing out answers; it's about guiding others to find their own solutions. And you know what? Sometimes, their solutions light a spark in me too. I've been in a slump for the last few months, but after that session, I found myself starting to tackle tasks like the motivated achiever I used to be – years ago. It really hit me when she said, "I planned my day but