Pagi ini saya terbangun seperti biasa. Udara dingin yang tidak terlalu menyengat di ujung kaki langsung memberi sinyal bahwa pemanas di samping pintu depan pastilah sedang menyala. Sudah hampir dua bulan—tepatnya sejak pertengahan November lalu—saya berada di Leiden, Belanda. Memasuki penghujung Desember, transisi musim gugur ke musim dingin terasa semakin menusuk tulang. Mengingat perjalanan pulang dari Museum Naturalis tadi malam saja, jam tangan saya menunjukkan angka 4 derajat Celcius. Mengayuh sepeda di tengah suhu seperti itu membuat wajah dan tangan serasa dibenamkan ke dalam serutan es; sarung tangan murah yang saya beli di pasar Leiden bulan lalu pun seolah kehilangan fungsinya, tak mampu menahan gempuran hawa dingin. Selepas subuh, rutinitas dimulai dengan gercep. Sambil mengisi daya ponsel dan laptop (tidak lupa mengisi SKP untuk kantor di Indonesia), saya sibuk mengiris bawang merah dan putih untuk menyiapkan bekal nasi goreng. Membawa bekal sudah menjadi prinsip utama saya...
Illustration of how to deal with a toxic environment The wellspring of hope and trust has run dry. This institution, once envisioned as the bedrock of my dedication, now feels like a hollow stage for a bad play—a place where merit dies in silence. I’ve searched my memory, desperate for one honest reason to offer a perfunctory thank you . The ledger remains brutally blank. The cruel irony of rank My disillusionment began immediately. I entered government service with a Master's degree and a higher administrative rank . Yet, my actual job placement was a cruel joke that lasted almost four years . This was the great irony: a higher salary class, but a job description straight from the basement. The duties were tasks scandalously beneath my credentials: checking wall-mounted air conditioners , procuring stationery and household supplies , managing social media, and drafting polite replies for student internships. The essential, official work? That was reserved for others. I even hear...