You wanna know how fast time flies? Check this out: last week I entered my sixth year of employment in this country. And, of course, I didn't realize it until I read Ibu Yosi's latest blurting. Considering how five is a special number, I guess the time is as good as any to look back and be a helpless romantic.

My ego as big as everyone else's, I don't usually forget things when they're about me. But with me getting older and older -- my fast-receding hairline can attest to that -- let's see if I get this correct.

It was roughly seven years ago, back in the uni days where everyone favored idealism and tried to reach for the stars, when a final-year student (that was me) remarked somewhat offhandedly to his neighbor (that was her) that he was gonna find a job in SG. It is interesting to note that our country was in the midst of its worst economic crisis in decades then, so you can't blame the neighbor for taking this "announcement" at face value.

I myself didn't really think much of it. Kids those days made any kind of statement -- "one day I will dunk on that rim". So when my mom said, "So, you're going to work in Singapore," I was all, huh? Whoever gave you that idea?

Later on, because of -- rather than in spite of -- my mom's persistence in telling me to apply for a post-graduate course abroad, I intentionally missed the application submission deadline and took what at that time seemed the laziest way out off graduation: a full-time position in some university project. The money sucked like the best Electrolux vacuum cleaner, but that's what you got for the uni-student-like office hours.

Eventually, I joined a real company. Real as in the money still sucked but less so, you thought your boss knew nuts, and oh, you were never promoted. A year on I got bored with the office and project routines -- I have this 2-3-month cycle of boredom -- and decided to finally submit that application. It served dual purpose: I was excited again and my mom was happy. Hey, it never hurts to make the one who has carried you in her womb for 9 months happy.

So there I was: one of the many post-graduate students, hoping to improve standards of living by getting master's degrees. (Of course, as we all know now, that's not how things work in this world.) It would take me a year to graduate, but six months in I was -- surprise, surprise -- once again bored. Luckily, 2000 was such a crazy year with everyone jumping on the dotcom bandwagon and people with next-to-nonexistent experience getting hired permanently just by holding on to sounding-good certificates. Before I knew it, I was employed illegally -- full-time students aren't supposed to work -- and I was excited.

The money was good this time -- it was a dotcom company, what did you expect -- and the working environment suited me just fine. Got my degree at last and with that came the increment. Happy, happy, happy. Then the bubble popped. Not my bubble, though, that would have to come a year later. A week out of the job I joined another company. The money was better still, with even a promise of re-evaluation after three months.

The company itself wasn't a dotcom in the normal sense. But the clients we dealt with were. One by one our clients disappeared and soon enough so did the company. But not before owing us four months worth of salary. We never got the money back.

While 2000 was crazy in a deceivingly good way, 2002 was insane in a truly bad way. At one point one out of four people here was unemployed -- and one in three of these without jobs had a degree. In what I think now was the biggest mistake I ever made, I decided not to return home and instead struggled on in this country for a job that never came. Credit must go to my parents, who raised me well enough to always remember to save.

I was without jobs -- and interviews for that matter -- for seven months. It was really a humbling experience, I can tell you that much. One of the most common stereotypes in Indonesian movies in the 80s was a jobless guy who constantly hit his wife or stole his old mother's money or robbed to pay his gambling debts. It was as well that I had no wife, my mother wasn't too old and lived far, and I had terrible luck at gambling, 'cause I perfectly felt like one of those guys.

When I finally was once again employed -- with only one third of my original saving left -- I treasured the job. The money was back to the normal sense -- sucked, that is -- and the work was unbelievably tough, but I clung to it. If there's a thing being humbled by force could do to you, it's to turn you into a Javanese -- "I'm so sorry, but you're standing on my foot."

That was more than two years ago and now I'm still with the same company. In my short career, that is a record. Anyone cares to share a drink with me on this? Here's to at least another year, for they say they will give me another day of annual leave after three years.

Now, you might've glanced at the title above and thought, what's this gotta do with that? Uh, sorry to disappoint you, but by now you should've known that titles on this site mean as much as C-Webb in Philly.

(To Nat, who tendered her resignation today: all the very best!)

Current music: Gary Moore - Parisienne Walkways
Current mood: happy