Younger colleagues are launching a new product line this afternoon, and so I stop by to check in. It’s lunch time, and I don’t see my colleagues who promised to show support. I take a soccer ball and head over to the building. I dribble the ball for an hour and provide free campaign. I tell everyone to come down and support this exciting event! People look on and wonder why I’m dribbling and passing a soccer ball at work. I have fun.
Work can be fun because I make it so.
He’s annoying, but he asks good questions. He’s filling the role that had been vacant for far too long, despite my raising issues and concerns to the head of department. He cares. He takes things personally. He does his best to represent his customers’ needs. No wonder he’s annoying. He causes friction.
We need more people like him in our projects.
The last meeting commences at 3:30pm and ends just before 7. They had made recommendations based on a set of incorrect assumptions. We had not understood the scope nor the constraint of their solution. The penny drops six months after we sign the contract. My face flashes blue and red. But at least now we know. Now we can move on and be practical about what must be done.
The importance of aligning and managing expectations… The best will get promoted and the rest will fade away like all the rest.
Full day workshops mean I won’t be able to do the actual work. Ironic, isn’t it? Nonetheless, I must be in every workshop to keep everyone on task and not derail the entire process. People have the tendency to go off on tangent. The opportunity cost of not discussing the matters affecting everyone cannot be understated.
I reel it in, the line must be kept taught to get through all discussions in 5 days.
Three Koreans in South Africa. One is an MBA student, another doctor in training, and the other one in corporate. The last makes more money than the other two combined. The last can work anywhere in the world and command a competitive salary. The other two struggle to make ends meet.
What’s the difference? She speaks American English. She has an engineering degree coupled with internationally recognized MBA. She’s worked for global companies. She has a strong network.
Her intelligence comes from her parents and grandparents. She hadn’t thought about her grandfather. He used to tell his children, “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you. If you don’t have bus fare and can’t go to school and don’t tell me, what can I do? If you had told me, I could have borrowed. I could have stolen. I could have done something, but if I don’t know. I can’t help you.”
It’s something she can relate to. She always tells her team, “Tell me! I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
In 7th grade, her family was evicted and five of them had to live in a one-room motel for 8 months. Her parents didn’t jump at the first apartment that opened up. They waited to be relocated to a better school district after visiting a public school in Boston which terrified the both of them. As a result, the two eldest went to a good school in safe location. The two youngest and the parents get counsel and advice from the eldest, and the investment yields dividends from this strong foundation.
She is the product of all decisions, indecisions, actions, hesitations, generosity, violence, and all things life threw to make her into who she is today. She is grateful for her ability to help her family. She has enough disposable income and earning potential to do so. A small girl with no friends. A small girl who couldn’t even walk. A girl who used to stutter. A girl who used to be bullied. A girl who was called dumb-dumb. Look at her now. Just look at her.
I found my first set of grey hair last year during a haircut. Silvery sliver of pure horror. I screamed in silence. I wasn’t ready to deal and ignored it. Then I found another. Then another.
Do I kill (dye or pluck) it or let it be? Do I feel upset, or is this yet another silver lining?
To age and have the sight to grey hair is a blessing, a sign that we’re alive and wiser.
Some die young and lose the opportunity to grow old. Most of us take longevity for granted, the process of aging. The grey is just the evidence of us having lived a long and plentiful life. The greyer we get, the longer we would have lived.
Perspective changes how we see the world and how we feel inside.
On a scale of 1 to 100, where do you place your financial literary and personal finance? My friend scores himself 60, which means I must be just below.
Money is based on a set of rules made up by humans not too long ago. In my early twenties, I latched onto titles like “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” by Robert Kiyosaki. Having a poor dad myself, I couldn’t grasp the basic concepts. What I do remember: wealth is not how much you make. Wealth is what is left over after paying everyone else, including the tax man. Pay yourself first. I just read reviews with differing views.
My take? If you want to adjust the way you think about money, give it a god. It takes time for things to change. For our minds to bend and adapt. It won’t give you specific advice on how to invest or do things differently, aside from planting a seed, if not planted already.
Too many of us live from one paycheck to the next. Looking for ways to make our money stretch. When extra income comes in, we splurge and treat ourselves. Or maybe we need to pay for the leaky roof. A pair of shoes for the child in need.
But… if you’re reading this, you probably have disposable income, even if its $50 a month. They say a dollar today is worth less tomorrow because the cost of living goes up while our salary stagnates.
How do we preserve the value of the $1 or better yet, increase it? How do we make the money work for itself? This is the layperson’s definition of investment and capital preservation. If you think I just spoke a foreign language, I’m not surprised.
The penny dropped for me just last year, after reading and thinking about money for 12 years and getting my MBA. Why did it take so long? Because I grew up with poverty mind of scarcity. The epiphany only hit after doing research on the US taxes because I wanted to get over my fear of the big scary IRS. It turns out the US income tax that we see today only started this century, and it was voluntary.
My journey started 12 years ago, and I am just starting to scratch the surface. Where are you? How have you invested towards your future?
Trying best but getting nowhere fast. The necklace of meetings hang heavy around the neck without sparkle of the spirit within. So I sit by the window and reflect upon the past week.
My friend of 18 months leaves the country today. A part of me wants to spend the whole day with him, but I decide against it.
All meetings must come to an end. True value of relationship is only revealed at the end.
How sad do I feel? Very. Do I have any regrets? No. Should I have done things better? Always but I did the best I could. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that at all. Or maybe I should have. Did we have the best of the times together? Yes. Am I sad to see you go? Yes. Will we ever see each other again? Not likely. Will you miss me? Yes. Goodbye with loved ones is always bittersweet. Sweet memories blend with the parting bitterness.
The chest shakes as the tear rolls down into the heart. Swells form and turn violent … eventually decreasing in size and gentler in their peaks. White caps disappear. Sea foams dissipate. The tear rolls into the calming ocean reflecting against the shades of pink and blue, its way of saying goodbye to the light of the day. It’s time to welcome the darkness of the night. The light extinguishes, and the pink turns crimson just before turning deep blue of mystery.
The fragility of the heart turns into another memory of the past, marked with another goodbye.
The sun will rise again tomorrow, and today will become a distant past soon enough. The space you used to take up will shrink in size, and we will soon let others in to fill our necklace of meetings and goodbyes. The bead representing our time is full of color and luster. It shines brightly with the lightness of our joys, the tenderness of our friendship.
Tomorrow is yet another day, and I’m not quite sure what it will bring. Maybe a friend, maybe not. Fare thee well.
The green converse goes on my feet like uniform. Work or pleasure, the same pair of shoes gets me everywhere.
We walk. It’s louder than I thought with all the cars. We pass a stranger and I wonder what he’s up to. It’s a guest of a same friend. He was lost?
We start out the night with laughter poured into wine glasses thanks to BBB’s great stories.
Jazz… it sounds so classy and cool. Except it’s boring! (I know, how unclassy!) Elevator music, it reminds me of. I have a better appreciation towards the funk and wonk of the American and Brit’s.
Some don’t pay their portion, so the two of us add another $10 to our tab. Really, people?
We end the night with a stinky Uber driver. Smelling good is a luxury, a privilege it turns out.
13-hour day today at the office. After dinner at a local favorite, I get home just after 10pm. I am writing this two days later, and I’m not clear on what I achieved. Team goal setting. Multiple meetings. Oh yes, a colleague is taking vacation, so I spend time with him to get the information I need before sharing with the new boss.
Work… What is it all for at the end of the day? Will I remember the importance of today a month from today? Does it really matter?
What do they say? Make sure to take care of the balls that won’t bounce back? Those that’ll shatter? Because work will bounce back and so will friends? What if I want the balls to shatter, no matter how rubbery and hard? What if we’re looking at it all wrong? I ask because I don’t have any of the answers. The ramblings of a confused working professional.