One bad photo is like an ant bite. Slightly annoying and something to be eradicated as quickly as possible and never remembered again.
A whole series of bad photos is like one of those nightmares that you know isn’t real but can’t quite seem to wake up from and has serious psychological repercussions.
The latter occurred yesterday when there was a farewell photo montage presentation at my workplace and to my horror, streaming images of me grimacing stonily / having extremely bad hair days/ on the verge of falling asleep/ mouth gaping wide at nothing in particular/ nostrils flaring were flashed rather inappropriately to a rather emotive Corrine May song that never seemed to end. Most of these photos I had never seen nor had been aware they were being taken and hope that I never ever ever ever see them again.
Non-camwhores should not be punished like this. If we are not able to provide you cute-cute posed photos looking ecstatic about life, it means we never want any image of ours for mass display without proper authorization.
You may think I’m just being vain or over-sensitive, but someone quipped, “This farewell presentation is enough to warrant me never ever leaving this place.”
Given by what has transpired, I’m sure you are able to deduce that I have resigned from my current job (for the few of you reading this who may not know). While I have no idea what is the “game plan” for the “next phase in life”, I do know that I’m ready for rest and change, even at the expense of showing rather undignified moments.