I don’t know. Peace? I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping (metaphorically).
But in the clarity of morning, things (by which I mean, responsibilities) are reassuringly evident. In that brief interlude of wakefulness last night, I replied a couple of messages, emails, arranging meet-ups. It was comforting to be reminded of my affection for the people I have left here. Thank god for Singapore’s economy, too – service sector is apparently quite eager for jobs, so I have four interviews these two days, and I might hate these jobs, but job-hatred is a luxury many people can ill-afford , and in any case, well, it’ll be nice to have something to hate right now, instead of pickling my brain in the brine of boredom at home.
Had breakfast with my mom this morning, too, and it was a welcome, albeit sobering, reorientation to family issues. They aren’t dire, but they could be, and increasingly, I’m starting to come to terms with how privileged I’ve been my whole life, circumstance and chance and potential, sure, but with that comes a sort of responsibility, doesn’t it? Or it should. Even as people should be able to take responsibility for themselves, some people are better placed than others to do so. The Chinese norms of strong collective familial obligations are tethers, too, inevitably, and the iron-grip of traditional definitions of success along with the rigidity of Chinese acceptance of them put me in a difficult position by dint of my (perceived) attainment of these goals. In a way, before anything, my obligations to my family come first, but those have been shaped by my exposure to an entirely different system of kinship in Canada, which if not a better alternative possess at least some advantages over this one.
Meanwhile: a pretty sweet poem. Some frank discussion of sex (a warning in protection of delicate sensibilities ;))
I almost feel permeable, sometimes, open enough to various lifestyles that a choice stumps me. I’m making dinner for my family tonight! With eight of us, that’s … going to take forever, and I don’t know what to cook :l
… Make that five interviews. Three months’ just 12 weeks, really.