I am at the best phase of my life. Where mistakes are forgivable. Where being naive is expected. Where everyone my age is high on ideals, ambitions. Or the lack thereof. Where being stupid and principle-oriented are at the driver’s seat. Where everything is new, challenging, different–a first-time.
I was a fresh grad one and a half years ago. Now, I’m juggling the lives of an advertising agent, a freelance writer, and a weekend laundry lad. All these while reviving the enigmatic essence of how to split the bill and try to make ends meet.
I have a full-time day job–my second since I stepped out from the idealistic era that is college. I am still an idealist–to some extent, I guess. The “I want to change the world” mantra is till in my DNA (for how long I wouldn’t know). I have my bucketlist and am working on it. Yes, I get insecure with colleagues earning twice as much as what I do. Of course, the inevitable self-questioning creeps out off my bed at midnight. Things like “I’m too old to do this, too young to do that.” There are questions I find the answer to on the street the next day I wake up; there are some, however, that are left untouched, never discussed amidst coffee dates in Starbucks. I wake up, dress up, go to work, peek through unfamiliar faces, become acquainted with some, accumulate more Facebook friends, drink a beer or two, and go home with the same unanswered questions.
I am at the best phase of my life. You can be at the worst phase in yours. At the end of the day, it’s all a matter of how you look at it. Half-full or half empty. Black or white. Yes or no. This or that. The good news is, whatever inconsistencies, mishaps, losses, resignations letters, tax dues, electric bills, and self-interrogating thought bubbles you have, it is just a phase. You deal with it, move forward, and go on with your life including all the shitty details that come with it.