of white rabbits and being late.
I don’t know what it might be like for other countries, but here in Malaysia there is always such a mad dog rush from all sides to graduate as fast as you can and start working. The rush makes for fabulous peer pressure, ample parental nag fodder, and sometimes boring people. I never saw the fun in hurrying into my first job as soon as possible. It’s not like I want to raise a family anytime soon, and I don’t want to have to collect leave or wait till retirement to see the world. Besides, I’ve been working part time, one way or another, since I was 17.
But sometimes studying really eats away at me. I hate spending so much energy into something I am paying for, instead of getting paid for it. I hate that no matter what, my grades ultimately are decided by lecturers; people you actually need to be concerned about swiftly deciding they don’t like you (and most do). I hate group assignments because they never really turn out to be group assignments. I hate how examination halls give off such a disorientating air from the entire semester. Considering all that, I would love nothing more than to start working ‘seriously.’
However, to put it simply, I am afraid. I’ve seen my friends whine about their work, being stuck in jobs that make them unhappy. I whine about my studies, too, but I dread to think which will be worse for me. I feel like I’m running out of time (I am late by everyone’s clocks here), but I will keep on if it means it might help me to get into that scattered secret society; people who breathe air so rarefied that they love their job without starving in between paychecks. I’d like to think the future holds less to whine about.
(It may not be true, but I need to think it.)
