Time

Ever since hitting the Big Three, I have been thinking a lot about time and my life in retrospect. I find myself summing up the past few years' worth of days and hours, only to realise that the majority of that time has been buried in work.

When I first graduated from university, I promised myself not to get caught up in the rat race and become yet another Marxist mode of production. But this is exactly where I am now, being nice to everyone at work, more togged in corporate garb than before, trundling to office at morning peak hours and collapsing in bed after a long day of trying to be politically correct.

For the record, I have a sarcastic and impatient streak by nature (i.e. I'm not nice), I absolutely abhor work wear, and I am not a morning person. How did I get to where I am now??

I'll be honest. Money was a big motivating factor. I wanted a place of my own, of which only a cushy income could help me get there. I wanted to live overseas, which again would not be possible if not for a nicely-padded savings account.


However, each day seems to be getting less enjoyable than the last. I am acutely aware that I am losing flavour in life. Especially with the sudden passing of the Boy's father, I am even more conscious of the time I am wasting.

I once read in an article that an overall state of content is more sustainable than sudden spikes of intense happiness. I don't want the high. I just want to at least be glad of where I am.

I do wonder what or who I am now living for.