I get a bit restless and impatient during the more quiet afternoons at work. So on little fluorescent Post-Its and with pens that don’t work quite well, I’d quickly write down the plans that I want to execute as soon as I get home. They include the serious (send out resumes), the boring (throw out worn/torn shoes) and the whimsical (hunt for the perfect pair of black oxford flats – finally found ‘em after what seemed like years!).

The frantic buzz of adrenaline from sitting for my finals all in the span of a few days seem to still linger around in the days of post-exams and plant its seed in the most unfashionable way. Hence, the holidays so far have been nothing but a mad flurry of activities just jostling its way for more space on the calendar.

It’s four in the morning right now. That’s one more hour until I have to leave for my biannual gastronomical pilgrimage to Sydney! As much as I want to embark on a carefree escapade to one of my favourite cities in the world, I’m honestly in a big swirly mess. This is the season of my life where I balance precariously on a tightrope tethered to the pillars that have been the foundations of my life, mostly God, people who love me and whom I love, and every single grain of hope left in me.