It’s 10.03 AM and I sit in my office, clueless.

I arrived at work at 7.35 AM, twenty minutes later than usual. I don’t seem to want to wake up at 6.10 AM as I usually did. It doesn’t take me long to get ready in the morning – on average, 20 minutes. My breakfast is pretty basic, too – two toasts with Philadelphia cheese, four dark chocolate Digestive Thins and a glass of whole fat milk. I’m usually done within 10 minutes and stay an extra 5 to 10 minutes browsing through Instagram.

My commute is also short – a 20-minute drive.

The point is that I feel nothing about my work that makes me want to reach there early. Or even get out of bed. I am grateful (sort of) that it gives me the luxury of handling personal expenses and purchasing things I like. But I am not satisfied. More than that, I am done.

I want to be brave to leave this job without having another one. But there is no stability in this country. I don’t make the cut, or my nationality is the issue. Growing up in a foreign country for your entire life and not getting any benefits feels like my family and I have lived through the most prolonged, record-breaking scam. Again, I should be grateful that at least we live a comfortable life compared to the rest of my family in Pakistan.

Self-reflection time: My faith is in shackles. I’m probably at my all-time low. I have no idea what path to take; when do I shatter my bubble of status quo to have a life I really need.

It’s now 10.25 AM. I’ll get back to doing nothing.