On random days while I’m working on something menial or while taking a shower or in conversation with someone as my concentration migrates elsewhere, I seem to snap awake with a sinking realisation that I actually hold a job now, that I’m now 22, and that in a little less than 3 years from now I’ll hit a quarter-life. Premature quarter-life crisis or whatever this may be, it’s hard to put a finger on this general apathy I’m feeling. Case in point: writing entries detailing everyday events on a nearly religious basis—perhaps in the hopes that a future anthropologist or successful publishers would find my tales interesting enough to be published into a book, not unlike Anne Frank—used to be important to me, yet as I busied myself with work and trying to manage my finances, all these became almost insignificant or irrelevant in comparison.

It’s ironic how taking up a job as a writer reduces the frequency of which I blog. Entries spanning thousands of words long used to come easy even though sometimes they may take hours, but as I’ve always said, time is a precious commodity. And these days I spend these precious commodities on video games and assorted entertainment to unwind after a long day at work.

A few days ago Shawn came to my house to pick up the first episode of Season 6 for How I Met Your Mother, and I noted my observation to him how we’ve all grown up, to the extent that our conversation for that night at after 11pm revolved around business and him asking me for my opinion or advice, when perhaps five years ago or so our topics of conversation were less morbidly serious. And our discussion of vacations brought us to Toulousse, France instead of our usual repertoire of Port Dickson and Langkawi.

And hey the both of us watched an equally serious movie tonight at Pyramid, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, starring Shia LeBouef and Carey Mulligan. I thought it was a pretty interesting financial drama even though I couldn’t understand some of the more technical aspects fully, although they were understandably completely over Shawn’s head. Also lesson to be learnt from tonight: when watching movies on the weekends, always purchase your movie tickets in advance to avoid dastardly long queues. Fortunately our seats were still pretty decent at about 5 rows from the front.

But I digress.

On my company’s behest for our book-sharing session recently, I even had to read a book called Trump-Style Negotiation for crying out loud, instead of my usual collection of Murakami and other brilliant fictions that would transport my being temporarily into another world where I’d explore the authors’ worlds. And now, I’m set to be exploring the real world and my life and place in it.

I have a heavy suspicion that someday in the future—perhaps when the accrual of money is sufficient for the purpose—I’ll just take a long sabbatical from life and simply travel the world and into the deepest unknown. The exotic Bhutan—thanks to the four Bhutanese who introduced their country (that I’ve previously never heard of) to me and Siew, whom we met on a bus en route to Phuket and while on a ship to Phi Phi Island—and closed-door places like North Korea and Russia.

Perhaps I’m a journalist at heart despite how much the job lacks in its enticement to me. I love chasing these new stories and seeking out new characters for the factual tales that I’d craft for my travelogues or some future as-yet-to-be-crafted fictions. Sneaking a peek on North Korea (yep, there are actual legitimate travel agencies that organise controlled trips there) and sharing the (somewhat controlled and premeditated) experience to the world—that’s the dream.

Sometimes when I’m doing nothing that requires concentration on my mind like walking up the stairs, I see glimpses of my future travels conjured by my mind. And that motivates me.

The realisation that I’m getting old hit me after a Meeples session with py and Jerm two weeks ago or so – a female friend of Jerm’s who joined us told us that she was only 17 despite sounding incredibly mature for her age, and I realised that it was 5 years since I sat for my SPM. Five years on, I’ve completed my tertiary education and I’m sitting here typing… in an office.

Who would’ve thought?

I’ve recently begun a contractual week-long work at a publishing firm as a research writer, somewhat of a dream job of mine – went for an interview last Monday and was asked to begin work immediately the next day. Despite the rather long drawn-out hours from 9 to 9, I managed to get over the initial struggle of the first two days of trying to keep awake and alert, and soon the dynamics of a full-time working place set in. As always with any new environment that I’m in, the cloak of routine shrouded me and I’m quickly used to it once more.

Today marks the 9th day I’ve been working straight non-stop from 9 to 9 (yes, including Saturday and Sunday), and thankfully the production process has finally ended and we’re ready to send our magazines for the final printing. And it has been actually fun sometimes in a way—when you have a hearty boss that loves to crack jokes at every other interval and poke fun at everyone, it’s a fairly relaxed atmosphere and I truly enjoyed the workplace. Possibly one of the best choices I could’ve ever made for my first full-time job.

And as with growing up, I guess priorities changed easily before you know it. I used to blog with much ferocity and tenacity at an almost daily basis—trips and travels would be blogged and narrated down to the very minute detail, but now I haven’t even completed documenting my New Zealand trip 9 months ago, much less the recent outings when Matt was here or our vacation in Laos for 2 weeks. Photos were also taken fairly frequently, but with my camera’s death I’ll have to make do without them till I purchase a new one—even then I’m not sure if I’d have the time to post-process my photos anymore.

Circumstances have changed. As I exit my education life—maybe for good—I begin a new learning experience of being a working young adult, and for once, take charge of my finances. (Side note: my office subscribes to Personal Money, quite possibly my favourite magazine ever, and has regular copies of a photography magazine sent to it monthly. As we can borrow it back home to read, that’s pretty darn sweet imo.)

You know that you and your friends are all grown up when you meet up for that rare yumcha and talk about work.

In the aftermath of that departure, I recollected my routine among the debris. It took a week of battling inner turmoils but I emerged from the wreckage relatively well—I busied myself with my ongoing job search and finishing Demon’s Souls, which I did just 30 minutes ago. And I rekindled my DotA playing days again with Jon and Ding, where on Saturday night both Ding and I embarked to Jon’s place and indulged in our somewhat nostalgic teenage days of wiling the time away to a bedeviled game.

And two interviews later at two different recruitment firms, I begin to wonder if this is what I really want, when my two interviewers seem to find me suitable in a sales and marketing position much to my chagrin. Although I’m open to learning new things that I could put to use in my life, my passion has always been writing—it has always been that way. Unfortunately there seems to be a trade-off between a good pay and a writing gig, and I have admittedly succumbed to the idea of sacrificing my passions for a well-paying job.

Right now… I’m not sure anymore. Earlier today I stumbled onto a technical writer’s position which I researched into extensively and found it intriguing and interesting enough to want to make it as my actual career. Many questions still remain however, such as how to go about dealing with the paradox of a fresh graduate, in which these jobs require working experience but without a job I wouldn’t have any in the first place.

I’ll take on the world one step at a time.

More than a month now since I last blogged—a possible travesty considering a wealth of photos and entries documenting my daily life in this almost public journal of the trips I’ve been to, or my ramblings and soliloquies of love found and discovered, have not been published. To be honest, while I don’t feel an enormous pit of sorrow welling up inside me, I do regret the fact that I didn’t write as much, as it has been my passion.

Right now I will not talk about the Cameron Highlands trip that I’ve been to that ended in considerable disaster in the form of a non-functioning car that required thousands of ringgit to repair, or the foresty stay at Sekeping Serendah, or to Genting with Esther and Tony, or to the countless of Meeples sessions with my friends (mostly with Jerm, PY, and co. who were there nearly all the time), or the RoM with Tomoko and Ben and the after party, or the movies and dinners and co-operative gaming sessions with you.

Instead, I will talk about the upcoming Laos trip and how it both excites me and depresses me at the same time, as it signifies that your time here with me is drawing to an end. I remembered how excitingly agitated I became the night before your arrival, and now, I might be agitated again for all the wrong reasons.

Spending every waking hour with someone you love, while it’s the best possible thing to have happened to anyone, could turn into an emotional rollercoaster when this hazy, mystical summer draws to an end. You spend what seemed like an entire lifetime learning about your partner’s little quirky habits, like how you’ll use a fork while eating as opposed to a spoon, only to be torn away for another good year or so while your physical presence is spirited away.

But if we’ve done a whole year of non-physical communication before, surely we can do this again.

Next stop: Laos. In 3 days time now.