Decisions, decisions

In the last a couple of days, I picked up my lost brains and went back to study a diploma course. This time is in Swinburne, studying the first step towards my PMP credential. From my observation, my classmates are not exceptional witty but they all have hands on experience in terms of managing projects. I was the youngest and had the least experience sitting in there. I had this thought going through my mind again and again that I could do much better than them if I had the opportunity to manage projects. Grasping this thought, I started apply for jobs when a suitable pose is up to advertise.

Our trainer Greg, a knowledgeable project manager, was half kidding telling us that he went to intensive care unit once when he was working too hard. “Never again.” he signed. No one wants to go to an early grave. I was much younger, yet, I was no better than him that I was on an operational table on the day of my graduation. But I don’t want to go to grave with a pale and hollow life.

My best friend J gave up his well paid HSBC job and went back to study pure maths in Northern Ireland recently. It is not that he is fond of maths but his girlfriend, who gains a place to study in Oxford. Even that they can only meet once a month or even longer, it is still better than separating ten thousand miles away. Will I do the same thing? I don’t know. On one side is the dream I had been aspiring to and now is in the counting down on days stage; on the other side is the one I cling to. We always have to confront with conflicting decisions, don’t we?