existential insecurity

it all started early last week, with the inncuous question:

'so what are you planning to do when you finish NS?'

I'd never really thought about it, not seriously. And so I started wondering what I'd like to do when I start serving my bond. Work as an economist and do research somewhere, that sounds good to me.

then I realised something: it's not really what I want to do that matters, it's what PSC wants me to do. And there being so many OMS scholars, or SGS scholars who go on and do a master's, me with my measly BSc will probably fall quite low in the pecking order, and my preferences not worth a damn.

shit.

what the hell am I here for, if I'm going to end up being a test-tube washer. I may be one of the top undergrads in the department, but I'm still going to be cleaning toilets or doing some other menial task when I go back. Which really sucks considering the job opportunities available to me here in london.

the knowledge that I might have unthinkingly sold myself into slavery when I made my bargain with PSC 3 years ago, got me really depressed. My life is mine to screw up, and man did I screw up big time. Now my near future consists of 2 years of being eaten alive by bugs in some treacherous jungle, and another 5 of being eaten alive by boredom in some crummy cubicle.

but thanks to a few people, things settled into perspective over the weekend.

yes, maybe I made a mistake. Yes, I'm probably going to be dumped into some horrible job next time. But it's not the end of the world. There's always something worth being happy about, if you know where to look.

besides, at the end of the day a job's just a job. No one's ever died wishing he'd spent more time in the office (I think). Though it sounds corny, it's true that there's many things more important than jobs and the rat race. Things like health. Family. Friends.

talking about friends; I don't say this often enough, cos I'm an idiot at expressing myself, but I do appreciate all you people who've been kind enough to be my friends. You know, the people who put up with me and all my weirdness; send me postcards and emails and icq messages; and by being yourselves make life a whole lot more interesting and colourful.

I am grateful for your presence, and I thank you for it.