In anticipation of my birthday, which occurs in just over a month, I’ve decided to become contemplative.Â “Decided” is a stretch – mostly, like breathing, it simply happens of its own accord.Â Six-to-eight weeks before every New Year’s and every mid-April reflections like these happen.Â It’s all the usual nonsense that has bothered me since I was a teenager, nonsense that seems, despite the passage of many years and purported maturation, never to relentâ€”What am I doing with my life?!?Â Am I happy?Â Am I living in a manner that I find encompasses integrity??Â Etc and so on.Â Mostly my contemplations revolve around the two subjects that I imagine bugger most people: Career and Relationships.Â Have I found work I enjoy and that fulfills me?Â Do I have good friends?Â Am I a solid romantic partner? Exactly the sorts of concerns that reasonably self-aware people realize we’re privileged enough to fritter our time away worrying about.
Earlier today I was walking the streets pondering just such questions when I came across the following local newspaper.Â I didn’t read beyond the headline to flush out the storyâ€”somehow additional details seemed guaranteed to prove anti-climactic.Â When it comes to resolving my dual concerns about vocation and love the title says it all.
Something tells me the headline might be leading toward a “success disaster.” Perhaps we’ll read about it in “Where are they now?… The Asian Edition.” I’ll keep my eyes peeled.