I’ve skipped a couple of all changes since October – the one in October was getting a new job, in a new field, with new people I’ve never met. November was hectic, with work and then my week in Sydney for graduation, that I didn’t have time to sit down and properly think about it. And then it’s a week and a half into December. How time flies.
My birthday is in less than a week, Christmas in less than three, then it’ll be the new year, and then Chinese New Year, and then 2014 will be chugging along. The older I grow, the more I digest and relate to the adage ‘time stops for no man’. It doesn’t, no matter what happens. Death, life, love, sorrow, natural disasters, whatever is happening, the world still turns.
With all that’s happened in the past two months, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching – a lot more, it turns out, than I’d been doing when I was unemployed. And the one thing that has been forefront in my mind had always been “What exactly does being a post-graduate mean?”
To an employer, it’s either a sign of certain skills, a level of education, or a person you cannot afford to hire.
To the degree holder, it’s pride, and disappointment in the inability of that piece of paper to fulfil dreams and hopes and ambitions that had been promised to you.
I’ll be the first to admit that my decision in doing a post-graduate degree had been rash and badly thought out. My plans were viable, if I were not living and working in this part of the world. Ambition is all well and good, but it’s a pipe dream if the basis for it is a half-baked ‘because I want to’ or ‘I think I’ll be able to do this or maybe that’. I’m lucky that my family is well-off enough to be able to comfortably afford my education, without me having to worry about student loans. Then again, maybe I’m unlucky, because that fact had indirectly led to me not having to think too much about furthering my studies. It was go from the moment the seed for the decision had been planted in my head; I didn’t even have to collect the two hundred dollars.
Today will probably be the day I make the biggest decision in my twenty-four years of life – whether I will continue to soldier on this path that I (again) had rashly chosen, or if I will take a completely new path, which will determine the rest of my life. Or to put it another way, my rebirth at twenty-five.
Part of me wants the new path because it’s comfortingly familiar even if it’s new, it’s easy, and I know I’ll be good at it. Not to mention I’ll be earning (relatively) comfortably, and be able to provide well for my family. The other part of my shies away from change – I’m earning reasonably well, my job is fairly easy most of the time, I’d be stupid to give it up. I really don’t know what to choose.
Or perhaps the choice will be out of my hands, who knows.
What will my all change be?