Whiny Will

I really would like to write a positive blog post, something that has that cheerleader rah-rah, i-can-do-it feel but it's hard to be upbeat when in the span of a week, I've broken my new pair of contact lenses, found two nails in my flat tire and scraped the side of my car as I navigated around a difficult corner. To make matters worse, I think I've lost Language too -- it took me five minutes to type this first paragraph.
They say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger but I'm not going to make any cliche statements like that anytime soon. Yes, I'm still alive but every time I get out of the car, I make sure that my tires remain nail-free. I probably could win an award for being Malaysia's slowest driver but only because I never want to hear that sickening, hollow thud of car against concrete again.
Perhaps the only thing I can say about all this is that I'm learning about myself and discovering the things that I am certain about (not many) and things that I would like to be certain about. This week, I re-learned to say no and to insist on getting my way. I've become certain that there are people that I can count on when I'm in a jam but I would like to be certain about my own abilities in handling tough situations.
Sometimes, I think it's hard to live in a place where everyone is ultra-confident because failure has never obstructed their progress or if it has, it's only made them more resolute about success. What I need to happen in KL is a big cry club where I can feel like it's all right to have bad days or to make mistakes. What I need is really a good Oprah episode and lots of ice cream.

Home fires

I've fired the first shot in a new round of conflict with my parents -- I told them I was thinking of moving out. A friend of a friend is moving into his new condo somewhere on the other side of KL and asked me if I wanted to live with him (he knew I was passively looking for a place). Today, I drove the entire length of KL to see the new digs and I'm still not sure where I stand on this but I don't know if my thoughts or feelings count here. My dad is already against the idea on practical grounds -- "Why pay someone rent when you can own?" -- so he's undertaking an apartment search on my behalf. What I'm afraid of is that my parents will sell our current house when they retire in the country next year. Ideally, I would love to live here in the house I grew up in, where the pencil marks measuring my vertical progression are still visible on the door frames and the neighbors have remained unchanged in 25 years but I know one thing for certain and that is I cannot live with my parents.

Reality Sets In

Well, I've returned from my honeymoon high and now that I've gone and started the eight to seven grind all I can think is "Shit, what have I done?" My first week at work was rather disastrous -- I've been put in a cubicle and given the vaguest of directions to learn as much as I can about financing. For the past five days, I have been reading about options pricing and share premiums, scrutinizing balance sheets and income statements and reading about debentures, treasuries, revolving credit and the like but all I've gained from that is this huge anxiety that I know so little in an industry that prizes encyclopedic knowledge and razor sharp analysis.
I'm trying me best to impress but I do think (perhaps legitimately) that everyone is wondering how I got the job and if I suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an investment banker, an Elle Woods in KL. It seems like everyone at the office tries to dumb things down for me and I fumble at every situation I get to prove myself which is really frustrating. I hope conditions improve next week.