We met B over the Chinese New Year at Jon's paternal grandmother's house. I saw him as I walked through the gate, and quite literally skipped over to thank him for being one of the people who recommended I watch Secret Garden last year (the other person was my brother. With two boys telling me to watch it, I knew it had to be good). Because the idea of it is so utterly frivolous, and yet because it is the truth, I like telling people that watching Secret Garden marked a major turning point in my life.
Well, that major turning point culminated in my tendering my resignation last Wednesday.
I never thought, when I started posting random office anecdotes two years ago, that I'd be posting about this so soon. That's life for you I guess: It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right; I hope you had the time of your life. My taste in music has changed over the years, it's funny thinking how at 13 I thought I would be into Green Day forever. That was a really good song the lyrics of which still hold true today.
Last night, while waiting for Jon to be done with work, I joined D2 and K in D1's room to just hang around. Our being together reminded me of why I had been so enamoured with private practice at first. It wasn't what we talked about, really; it was looking at the files in D1's room, the open window on his computer with an email he had to send on a Friday night after 6 p.m. You know. Things that pander to a workaholic's tendencies.
I've said before I didn't think the job was glamourous at all, which was why I liked it - but I've always felt there was a sort of "reverse glamour". The late nights, the caffeine fooling (and fuelling) you into thinking that you could maybe pull 3 to 4 a.m. days for a good long while yet; Barry the BlackBerry flashing red at all hours, the (misguided) feeling that you are young yet indispensable to the firm. The nice lunches and dinners when you luck out and work with (charming) bosses who bother to attempt to show their appreciation, even though they ask you the exact same questions which they did the last time you went out for lunch together.
D1 and D2 said, as have many others when I tell them I have resigned, Why quit, it's going to be like this you know. You will be alone at night at home because Jon will still have very bad hours.
I'd finally heard the lyrics of 天冷就回来 properly the Friday before Chinese New Year, and there was one poignant line which struck me: 天冷我想回家 年少已经不在, it's cold and I want to go home but youth is no longer there. I don't want to wake up five years later and wonder what happened to my life and wonder why I didn't make the choice earlier - because by then, it may be too late. I want to be able to clean my own house and prepare meals (famous last words). Want to be able, on Mondays, to turn off my computer when it's time to leave for BSF, want to wake up on Sundays and feel refreshed as I head to church and not like a wall of bricks has fallen on my head. Jon may not come home early everyday, but he has promised to try, and that is enough (although I don't think I've quite yet learnt how to put patience before disappointment (and sometimes unreasonableness, of course)). But we're getting there.
Resigning wasn't easy. Sometimes I'm afraid I will grow to resent Jon for being so supportive of and one of my main reasons for leaving. I'm also afraid that I will be totally and utterly sick of housework after less than a year of married life.
But hey, you never know till you've tried, right? And in the words of an A*mei song, 敢爱敢做的人超级精彩, those who dare to love and dare to do are absolutely marvellous (a biased translation).
***
Thank You, God, for Your faithfulness these past two years.
Well, that major turning point culminated in my tendering my resignation last Wednesday.
I never thought, when I started posting random office anecdotes two years ago, that I'd be posting about this so soon. That's life for you I guess: It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right; I hope you had the time of your life. My taste in music has changed over the years, it's funny thinking how at 13 I thought I would be into Green Day forever. That was a really good song the lyrics of which still hold true today.
Last night, while waiting for Jon to be done with work, I joined D2 and K in D1's room to just hang around. Our being together reminded me of why I had been so enamoured with private practice at first. It wasn't what we talked about, really; it was looking at the files in D1's room, the open window on his computer with an email he had to send on a Friday night after 6 p.m. You know. Things that pander to a workaholic's tendencies.
I've said before I didn't think the job was glamourous at all, which was why I liked it - but I've always felt there was a sort of "reverse glamour". The late nights, the caffeine fooling (and fuelling) you into thinking that you could maybe pull 3 to 4 a.m. days for a good long while yet; Barry the BlackBerry flashing red at all hours, the (misguided) feeling that you are young yet indispensable to the firm. The nice lunches and dinners when you luck out and work with (charming) bosses who bother to attempt to show their appreciation, even though they ask you the exact same questions which they did the last time you went out for lunch together.
D1 and D2 said, as have many others when I tell them I have resigned, Why quit, it's going to be like this you know. You will be alone at night at home because Jon will still have very bad hours.
I'd finally heard the lyrics of 天冷就回来 properly the Friday before Chinese New Year, and there was one poignant line which struck me: 天冷我想回家 年少已经不在, it's cold and I want to go home but youth is no longer there. I don't want to wake up five years later and wonder what happened to my life and wonder why I didn't make the choice earlier - because by then, it may be too late. I want to be able to clean my own house and prepare meals (famous last words). Want to be able, on Mondays, to turn off my computer when it's time to leave for BSF, want to wake up on Sundays and feel refreshed as I head to church and not like a wall of bricks has fallen on my head. Jon may not come home early everyday, but he has promised to try, and that is enough (although I don't think I've quite yet learnt how to put patience before disappointment (and sometimes unreasonableness, of course)). But we're getting there.
Resigning wasn't easy. Sometimes I'm afraid I will grow to resent Jon for being so supportive of and one of my main reasons for leaving. I'm also afraid that I will be totally and utterly sick of housework after less than a year of married life.
But hey, you never know till you've tried, right? And in the words of an A*mei song, 敢爱敢做的人超级精彩, those who dare to love and dare to do are absolutely marvellous (a biased translation).
***
Thank You, God, for Your faithfulness these past two years.
