Last day of work in my first full-time job.
I worked 7 years as a part-timer and 5 years as a full-timer. That's > 12 years gone. Could not believe I told myself I would quit after 3 months. Habit is a dangerous thing.
Lots to reminisce and I can't say I didn't enjoy the journey. The children, for the most part, make it worthwhile. My boss has been great. I enjoyed the short hours. The pay, while low, isn't too shoddy if you only worked 36 hours a week. The only part I dislike is working on Saturdays. I have missed out on a lot of activities by working on Saturdays.
My new job starts on Monday, which is stupid on my part. I don't know what I was thinking when I told them that I am available on 1st March. I should have taken a break.
I have been crying myself to sleep for so many nights now. I guess all the feelings I have bottled up during the day just come gushing out as tears. There is no one for me to talk to or who would take me seriously.
I decided I want to live and yet my family asks me to find meaning in life? My purpose is to live. A job is a means to the end. I never thought much about jobs. Sure, I have lofty goals and dreams when I was younger and more arrogant. I want to drive a BMW. I want to dress nicely and work in an office. I want to dine in cafes and restaurants and drink Starbucks every day.
But that all change as entered and graduated from University. I couldn't see my future the older I get. I got disillusioned and crabby like an old fart.
I thought, since I don't know what I can be, maybe I should just dedicate my life to help other people. But I am a coward who always overthinks and second-guessing myself.
My five-year plan is to bid for a 2-room BTO (or a 3 room resale if possible) and invest my money to build up a passive income. I want to stop working full-time by age 45-50. I want to work part-time and/or volunteer and do what the hell I want. It will be good if I can afford a 3 room resale as I get to rent out a room. But why the hell are resale HDBs so expensive?
