Long-form

Long-form blog posts and editorials. Topics cover both personal and the world at large. 

The Grand Return - 2024 Reflections

What if Sisyphus actually enjoyed rolling the rock up the hill?

For his crimes, Sisyphus of Greek mythology was condemned to rolling a boulder up a hill repeatedly, for eternity. I see it as a parable to our everyday lives. Don’t we, too, do the same thing, day after day, without end? (Well, until the ultimate end.) Wake up, go to work, cook, an hour of Netflix, sleep, then do it all over again.

The only respite is our weekends. But ever since we’ve reached adulthood, our weekends ceased to be the hedonistic smorgasbord of childhood. There’s responsibilities, errands, and general upkeep that make the work-week possible. (Especially those with children.) Can an adult really afford to play videos games all weekend? I wouldn’t call the person who does, an adult.

Maybe you have vacation once or twice a year. That’s fantastic. But there’s that pit in your stomach when your vacations come to a close, that you soon have to return to reality. Vacations are like Sisyphus taking a brief break from bouldering. The verdict remains: back to pushing the rock you must go.

Our lives are a repeating cycle, over and over. This isn’t meant to be a sobering conclusion. Sisyphus’ sentence is only a punishment if we think he rebels against it. But what if he likes it? What if pushing that boulder forever uphill is as enjoyable for him as a video gamer playing videos games continuously? The outcome is not grim at all if Sisyphus relishes his fate.

And that goes for us, too. No matter how much novelty you are financially able to throw at your life, the cycle cannot be escaped. Even when you strip it down to the bare minimum, we still have to repeatedly eat, drink, defecate, and sleep.

Sameness, the endless cycle: that’s what we are condemned to. So I choose to like it. Despair is not productive. Not for you, nor for society at large.

What’s important to find within that repeating cycle is improvement. Sisyphus must be one superbly muscular guy after pushing that boulder that many times! He can be proud of that, as we can of ourselves when we seek to constantly improve. A positive outlook and application at work is a high correlate to advancement. Just because we have to constantly work for money, doesn’t mean work itself cannot change. I’d argue the possibility for change is what makes us get out of bed in the morning.

It doesn’t even have to be climbing the organizational ladder, or making more money. (I would say those are positive side-effects.) The fact that you get better and gain more knowledge at your profession is enough. Problems that used to be difficult are now easy. Responsibilities that used to be burdensome are now a quick snap judgement. The self-esteem you receive from that growth makes you want to keep going. After a certain period of time, Sisyphus surely knows the best most efficient way to get the rock up that hill.

The folks with children: seeing the change in your kids makes the endlessly monotonous task of child-rearing worth doing. I have great joy in witnessing the change in my friends’ kids. Every time I see them, there’s something new. Perhaps a sudden growth spurt, or something new they’ve learned that they are eager to share with me. This can be the novelty you seek in your seemingly boring and mundane life.

If you see life as Sisyphean, then improvement - in yourself, or the people we care for - is the antidote.

Let’s look at exercising. Other than the two times I was out of the country, I’ve not missed a scheduled workout in 2024. It’s not because I am some paragon of mental toughness. Like the rest of you, I greatly prefer lying on a couch than hefting some iron onto my back. And to do so three times a week, week after week? Unlike Sisyphus, I at least have an option to stop!

It's the change I see that keeps me returning to the squat rack. Every single pound I add to the bar is a triumph. Seeing certain muscles grow in size is a win, however vain that indeed is. The understanding that I am working towards being the healthiest version I can be. That I’m not just doing it for the 37-year-old me. The goal is for the mobile and athletic 80-year-old me to be thankful to the present me, who had the wherewithal to keep pushing that boulder.

Still very much a beginner, in 2024 I progressed from dumbbells to the barbell. I am extremely lucky that my friend slash landlord has a squat rack and cable-tower in the garage - that I am free to use. A home gym really is the ultimate for us weight-lifting enthusiasts. Cutting down the commute to and from the gym is already worth everything (though I do live within walking distance from a commercial gym). Then there’s the lack of need to contend with others for gym equipment. I don’t have to suffer the indignation of an interrupted routine, because another guy is already occupying a piece of equipment.

If I ever buy a house of my own, a home gym setup is a definite must have. Add in a steam sauna, too.

I have two revelations to share, after a year and a half of consistent weightlifting. The first is patience. Sure, progressively increasing the amount of weight you move is important, but it’s easy to go overboard in going up too quickly. Ego lifting is how you get injured (I unfortunately understand this first-hand). Those of us not assisted with alternative medicine (read: anabolic steroids) don’t have the luxury of speed. This hobby is supposed to take many, many years. Then into a lifetime.

What I’ve come to do is let a new weight level really marinate before moving up the scale. Let’s say I newly load 165 pounds for a back squat. I will stay at 165 for at least a few weeks (if not more) to let my body acclimatize to the sensation. While heavy weights will always be heavy, lifting 165 off the rack becomes easier the more I do it. I only add more weight to the bar (or dumbbell for other exercises) when I reach some admittedly subjective comfort level with the current weight.

Again, it’s supposed to take a long time. It’s harmful to compare to others, either in a public gym, or on social media. Seemingly overnight successes take a lot of overnights to achieve. Run your own race; the more you compare, the less great you feel about yourself. And the more you are inclined to take shortcuts. You want Warren Buffet’s money, but not the decades that it took for him to attain it. That’s not how it works.

Shortcuts are destructive. Those desiring a shortcut to wealth are wont to gamble their money into the stock market. Almost all of them will lose. Those desiring a shortcut to their ideal body are wont to take steroids, trading away literal lifespan, in order to massively accelerate towards an outcome. It is short-term, childish thinking.

The second revelation is diet: you must feed the body adequate fuel for it to grow. Seems obvious, right? Babies can’t develop properly if they are under malnutrition. The problem, as in pertains to male fitness, is that guys are so adamant about preserving visible abs. But visible abs generally require a level of leanness that’s not conducive to muscular growth. Professional bodybuilders on a stage, with muscles popping out and vascularity all over, are actually in horrible shape health-wise. That miniscule level of body-fat percentage is hugely detrimental to energy and testosterone levels.

The proverbial cake cannot be had and eaten as well. I had to make a choice: visible abs or increasing lean muscle mass. Midway through 2024, I decided on the latter and made an effort to eat more calories. Instead of spinning the wheels, there’s finally forward motion.

Have you ever been happily concentrating on doing something, only to be unhappily interrupted by the animal need of eating? If you are like me and look at food more on the utilitarian side rather than the gastronome end, the constantly repeating need to feed myself can sometimes seem like a chore. Why must I interrupt something I am enjoying, to do something that I don’t?

Like Sisyphus with the rock, I don’t have an option (well, aside from the singularly morbid one). I must find joy in making the food I eat, more so than ever this year.

I don’t have the luxury of buying off the labor of food-making with money. More power to those who can, but I definitely cannot afford to pay another person on DoorDash to bring me a burrito from a Mexican restaurant two miles away. Heck, I can’t even afford the burrito itself, given how food prices remain monstrously high in 2024.

The high inflation period of the COVID years may have subsided, but that doesn’t mean prices have gone back down. For prices to recede, there has to be an economic deflation. The negatives of which would be wholly not worth the tradeoff of lower prices at McDonald’s. In a deflationary period, you might not even have a job to pay for outside food.

In this period of high food prices, I, armed with employment, cannot fathom paying for restaurant food. That’s why this year I’ve cooked at home more so than ever before. If there’s a dish I want to eat, I would buy the ingredients and make it myself. There’s great joy in tasting a newly learned dish and finding it to be just as good (if not better) as the restaurant version.

Home cooking doesn’t have to be monotonous. So long as I continuously improve on technique, and increasing the arsenal of dishes to make. Any worthy adult should be able to whip up a proper meal that wouldn’t be embarrassing to share.

And I wholeheartedly believe in the value of sharing a meal with friends. That’s why the only time I eat out in this economy is when I am doing so with others. The inflated prices are worth paying for the socialization and friendship.

It is otherwise difficult to look at the economic happenings of 2024 and not give pause to how I spend. All we see on the news are companies right-sizing and laying off workers. The university I work at has declared a financial emergency. It’s little wonder that the Democratic party lost the elections. You cannot throw enough positive statistics at people to convince them the economy is fine. Facts don’t vote, feelings do.

I carried a precarious feeling about my financial situation ever since the beginning of the year. Again, it doesn’t have to be based on facts. In fact, my financials were (and are) fairly decent mathematically. I have savings, I have investments, I have a retirement, and I don’t have credit card debt (humble brag). Even with that, the uneasy feeling about the economy led me to resolve cutting back on spending as much as possible in 2024. That’s why I cooked at home more than ever, and learned to use and enjoy that material things I already have.

Because everything has gone up in price. I am fortunate to make more salary now than I did in 2019, but that increase doesn’t seem to have materialized in aggregate. The same car I bought in 2019, I cannot comfortably do so if I were to buy it again now in 2024. Because it’s not only the car that has gone up tremendously in price, but so has the stuff on the periphery.

Gas, insurance, maintenance, and license fee - it’s a far larger cumulative boulder today, one that my salary cannot afford to push uphill.

That’s why I’ve been agonizing with a dilemma all year: should I buy another car (that’s vastly cheaper than the car I was talking about just now). I finished paying off my current BMW M2 this year. Being an enthused car enthusiast, I started thinking about what to do with that extra money per month. Most of us (car enthusiasts) endeavor to have many differing experiences. If you have a real-wheel drive coupe, then perhaps an all-wheel drive sports sedan will add to the variety.

Obviously: buying a second car is in direct clash with my self-imposed austerity goals in 2024. All the cutting back here and there would not be able to overcome the enormity that a stroke of the pen on a sales contract can bring. There lies the dilemma: what do I want? Because I absolutely cannot have both. (There’s that cake and eating it again!)

The automobile is not merely a tool to us car enthusiasts. It’s a hobby and a passion. The prevailing personal finance standard of how much one should spend on private transportation does not apply to car guys and gals. We are destined to spend an inordinate amount of money on buying, maintaining, and upgrading cars. Much like hobbyist photographers spending many multiple thousands on camera gear.

So it would be incorrect for me to apply that prevailing standard into the question of buying a second car. I’m supposed to spend a larger chunk of my income on cars. It’s what I am passionate about, and it brings me a ton of happiness. I am stuck between two rational sides: it’s rational to conserve money in this economy (I already have a paid-off car), and it’s rational to spend money on a hobby I love.

At one point it got so agonizing that I questioned whether I still loved cars. Imagine that, asking that about a thing I’ve been dedicatedly enthusiastic about since childhood.

I still don’t know if I will buy second car in 2025. What I do know is that I want to drive more miles next year. In the whole of 2024, I only filled up the M2’s tiny fuel tank twelve times (the car has appropriately horrendous fuel mileage.) That’s due to two factors. The want to limit spending already aforementioned is one.

The second is me being on Accutane medication for almost half the year. For those unfamiliar: Accutane is the endgame drug for acne. I’ve finally resolved to kill this chronic malady, one that’s been with me in varying forms of severity since puberty.

The COVID pandemic’s masking culture really exacerbated my (what was) latent acne. Coupled with increased dairy consumption (I supplement whey protein to hit my daily protein goals) to support my weightlifting (milk is an acne inflammatory for many people), the state of my face was at its worse since puberty. It’s deleteriously depressing to wake up every day to new pimples. The regiment of skin-care products continuously losing an unwinnable fight.

I am delighted to report that here at the end of 2024, I am acne free (though the scars remain to tell a story). The effectiveness of Accutane is well known. So are its side-effects, bordering on notorious. I am lucky that my side-effects were mild, though that still meant a persistent state of dryness (lip balm is my new best friend), and huge sensitivity to the sun.

That’s why I’ve not driven much this year: I had to avoid going outside. Even on a cloudy day, the need to drink an enormous amount of water - and the subsequent bathroom visits - makes it logistically challenging. What’s seven months of inconvenience in trade for the rest of an acne-free life? A very tiny price to pay.

I eagerly await the day - early 2025 - I can do outside activities during the daytime again, without worrying about whether I’ve brought lip balm with me.

2024 was the first time since the start of the pandemic that I traveled outside of the country. And what better place to fly to than the epicenter of COVID 19: China. It’s been four long years since we were last able to see relatives from my father’s side of the family. To coordinate the special occasions, we went back to China during Lunar New Year festivities.

My advice for the common tourist that otherwise do not have family in China: don’t visit during Lunar New Year. Almost everybody has the week off, therefore almost everything is closed. Gastronomes seeking the truly local food flavors are going to have a bad time running into closed for vacation signs. We found entire malls closed for the holiday. If you wish to experience China, travel there during any other time.

It's of course wonderful to see family again, after seemingly such a long time. The euphoria I got stepping off the plane in Hong Kong - after an arduous 15-hour plane ride - was like finding a long-lost friend. I didn’t realize I missed traveling to foreign countries so much. Before the pandemic, I had made this trip every year. This is one boulder I definitely do not mind repeatedly pushing uphill.

Though I am sad to say that if it weren’t for family, China would not be on my travel itinerary for a long time. It’s become hugely inconvenient for a foreigner to do stuff there. China is famous for its vast adoption of digital payments using WeChat and Alipay, except foreigners do not have access. Those platforms require a local bank account, which foreigners cannot get. It makes paying for things unnecessarily inconvenient, to downright impossible.

Sure, cash is still excepted everywhere (by law, supposedly). However, depending on the vendor, you the foreign tourist may be the first and only cash transaction of that day. There’s a solid chance the vendor won’t have any bills on hand to make change. Want to pay for a ¥250 taxi ride from the airport, but you only have ¥100 bills from the ATM? That taxi ride is very likely to cost ¥300.

(Your American credit cards are effectively useless outside of western-brand department stores. You can’t even use one to buy a bullet train ticket.)

What is travel if not spending money on the local economy? The current system in China makes it so incredibly difficult for a foreigner that I lost interest in exploring further. And that’s a shame, because there are many bustling metropolises there that demand a visit. (I would love to go see the uniqueness of Chongqing.)

I rather visit the bustling metropolises in other Asian countries. Where either cash, foreign credit cards, or both, are readily accepted. (See you again in 2025, Seoul!)

It’s indeed lovely to travel again. 2024 was a grand return to before the pandemic: a connection, a continuation of where I left off at the end of 2020. Obviously, a lot has irrevocably changed during those pandemic years, but I’ve always felt like being in a sort of limbo, whilst the world sorts out dealing with COVID 19. (Or is it the other way around?) The ability to go back to China once more signaled a true return to regularity, at least for me.

Then Accutane medication brought upon a kind of mini pandemic, putting a pause to that grand return. All extracurriculars that involve going outside were stopped. I’ve done massively less driving and photography this year, both of which are critically important hobbies. Painful as it may be to lose (even) more time, it’s a necessary step. A part of constant improvement is fixing issues that should have been fixed a long time ago.

Self-improvement is the remedy for the ceaselessly repeating in our lives. I feel this more acutely than ever now that I am in the meaty chunk of adulthood. Since we are stuck doing the same things over and over - like Sisyphus, we might as well reap positive benefits out of it. Over a long enough period of time, you might find yourself doing something different, over and over. Because you’ve progressed, from being the store grunt, to now the store manager.

That’s what I am focusing on in 2025, and well beyond. I wish you all the best possible health in the coming year.


Top 10 Songs of 2024

1. ITZY - Mr. Vampire
2. LE SSERAFIM - Smart
3. Red Velvet - Sweet Dreams
4. LE SSERAFIM - Easy
5. NewJeans - Bubble Gum
6. GroovyRoom - Yes or No (Feat. HUH YUNJIN of LE SSERAFIM, Crush)
7. NewJeans - How Sweet
8. DAY6 - You were beautiful 예뻤어
9. Zico - SPOT! (FT. Jennie)
10. Irene - Like a Flower

Once More, With Feeling! - 2023 Reflections

Ah, the last week of December. The time of the year for reflection and gratitude. Principally because I am fortunate to have the entire week off. The perks of working in higher education: the time between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day is automatic vacation. No PTO is involved at all. Shoutout to all the tech bros who have this perk as well. Granted, I don’t get paid nearly as well as you folks do. But then again, I don’t want your work hours and stress levels either. Quarterly performance reviews - what are those?

This week of reprieve from work is an absolute privilege. I try to not take it for granted, though thankfully I don’t have to go very far. A visit to the local mall is enough reminder that for a lot of people, this “dead week” for me is some of the busiest times for them. Going to Costco on the week before Christmas is a complete disaster of congestion. Salute to the hard-working folks in the service industry. I am grateful I do not have to do your job for a living.

The rest of us should quit complaining: tip these people well and often.

Comparison can be the thief of joy, but I think it can also be humbling and motivating. Amongst my friends I make the least amount of money. I can either be jealous and sad about it, or use it as motivation to earn more money for myself. In reality I am neither of those. What’s there to complain about when so many people don’t have what I’ve got: a job that pays well, with great benefits (pension, baby!), and superb work-life balance.

Keeping this perspective actually provides me with great passion for what I do. Information Technology support may not be my first choice (or second, or third) for a career, but here I am nonetheless. It’s way more useful to be excited about the job than lethargy, or the “quiet quitting” thing that’s seemingly the rage in the news (read: putting in the minimally required effort). I have a choice, right? It’s better to choose enthusiasm and positivity. The work is more interesting that way, and the work days go by quickly.

To say I am passionate about my job may be overselling it, but I genuinely believe I am moving the needle in some way. A working laptop for a faculty allows them to teach: is that not what this whole education enterprise is all about? I can and absolutely do take pride in that. I greatly appreciate the gifts of chocolate from faculty members this time of the year, a small token of their thanks. That’s enough motivation for me.

However, there’s about 10 percent of me that wonders: what’s next? Is there something more, different, or better? I guess I am more Type A than I realized. A weird thing during this final week of the year off is an often sense of uneasiness. This is a week for recharging, and doing relatively nothing (except for writing the many thousands words of this, of course). Yet the urge for productivity is difficult to pause. I feel like I should be doing something other than sitting on this couch, on my fifth hour of YouTube watching.

What makes it more weird is that I was so excited for this week off before it arrived! Now that the week is here and I’m in the middle of it, I find myself asking an existential, “Now what?” It’s a sort of emptiness similar to the time I bought the Porsche 911 GT3. I’d just purchased my absolute dream car, and all that’s left afterwards was a tremendous sense of emptiness. It seems I am happier(?) being on the hamster wheel than being off it. But I already have my dream car - there’s nothing more after that? There’s no proverbial wheel to get back on.

You got/achieved the thing you’ve always wanted. Or the thing you’re massively looking forward to has arrived.

“Now what?”

It’s a crushingly existential question. 2023 is done. 2024 is soon to arrive. Now what?

You certainly won’t find me starting a new gym membership on January 1st (the unofficial national join a gym day). That’s because I’ve been exercising regularly since my early twenties. Granted, I’ve slacked off greatly since the beginning of the pandemic. Even though I’ve since lost the ‘COVID 15’ increase, my fitness level was not on par with what it was back in my late twenties. I was content with this situation, until something I did in 2023.

I took improv classes.

You’d be right in thinking: there’s no direct link between improvisation and physical fitness. The only thing remotely physically demanding about improv class is all the standing around. The inspiration to maximize my fitness was spurred on by the location where the classes are held: Fort Mason Center for the Arts, in the heart of the Marina District.

On every weekly visit to the Marina Green, my sights were inundated with people working out. Even on a Tuesday evening, when it’s typically dinner time, folks are getting a run in after a (presumably) long day at work. Meanwhile, I am sat on a bench at the park eating a plate of fried chicken and French fries from the nearby Safeway. The contrast cannot be starker. My once-a-week workout program suddenly felt shamefully inadequate. Maybe it’s that easy: place gyms next to fast food places. People gorging on unholy food items would feel embarrassed if there’s people working out in their direct line of sight.

Honestly, it’s seeing all the hotties in yoga pants that was the motivation. There are so many of them around Fort Mason. You think Chloe Ting is popular because her workouts on YouTube actually works? Even if it did, Chloe Ting would do way better view numbers than Chris Ting. The power of skin-tight leggings that accentuates the female booty is limitless. For me, I feel like I have to be at my physical best (at least endeavor to, anyways) in order to measure up. That’s the standard.

(Ladies, it’s super easy to attract a dude: be fit, wear yoga pants, and keep long hair tied up in a single pony tail. Magic.)

So towards the second half of 2023, I returned to a three days per week workout schedule of my twenties. Two of them heavy (relative, mind you) lifting days, and the other one a day for running. I think it’s important to have a mix of resistance and cardio training. The goal isn’t to look good naked (though that’s a welcomed positive effect); the goal is to be functionally sound for as long as possible into the aging process. If I want to be 80 years old and still be able to pick up 30-pound grandkids (a deadlift, essentially), then I’d better be able to lift multiples pounds more than that here in my mid 30s. Walk around the neighborhood unassisted in my 80s? I’d better be able to run many consecutive miles now

The turn towards more exercising was also spurred on by the revelation that my blood glucose A1C levels have crept into the pre-diabetic level (5.7). That number is a bit inexplicable because I am generally quite healthy. My diet is decent, I workout enough (a number above zero), and I get decent amounts of sleep. How the heck am I in danger of diabetes? Nevertheless, numbers don’t lie. A1C levels are an aggregate of the last three months, so it’s not a fluke. My lifestyle had to change. High A1C is correlated to increase chance of all-cause mortality.  

In addition to working out more, I’ve cut off unnecessary carbs. No more large bowl of rice for dinner in the evening. Anything with added sugar is entirely verboten. I’ve hugely increased protein intake, in concordance with the weightlifting (one gram of protein per one pound of body weight (per day)). My sleep schedule turned to utter precision: eight and a half hours of in-bed time for eight hours of sleep. Same bed and wake time every day, especially Sunday. And no electronics of any kind in bed.

I expect my A1C levels to lower into normal figures in 2024.

Proper sleep and consistent exercise are such magical elixirs towards our overall health, more so than anything pharmaceutical can provide (for now). Best of all, it’s completely free. What’s sad is people would rather have medicine solve the problem. Because it’s an easy shortcut. It’s also free, provided you are gainfully employed with provided health insurance. (America!)

Folks want shortcuts because they want immediate results. More people would exercise if one session of training loses 30 pounds of fat (rather than one year of training). You tell them it will take at least a year of consistent training, then they don’t want it. In a world of endless dopamine drip that social media provides (looking at you, TikTok), we’re simply not conditioned for long-term thinking and delayed gratification. The marshmallow test has become the Kobayashi Maru.

As I get older, the only way I want to think is long term. Time horizon in years and decades. Anything that’s worthwhile takes quite a bit of time (losing weight, for example). The day-to-day will get boring as habits for the long-term don’t change. (Another Sunday, another five-mile run.) Heck, even year-to-year may get boring. In 2023 I read lots of books, studied Korean every day, and wrote on this website. I’ve been doing these three things on a daily and yearly basis since 2015. (I’m not changing any of that up for 2024 either.) If you’re constantly seeking novelty in your day-to-day and month-to-month, then you’re guided by dopamine. 

Two people who really could use a medicinal shortcut substitute for sleep: my housemates slash landlords slash good friends. In 2023, they had babies. That’s right: plural. Due to circumstances completely beyond their control, the fertilized egg split into two, and out came twin boys. A life achievement ticked. The friend groups are supremely happy for the two new parents. Though with twins, they are definitely playing the parenthood game on hard mode. To put it slightly off-putting: it’s kind of like one of the twin is a wanted pregnancy, and the other twin is an unwanted pregnancy. One baby at a time is difficult enough already.

The big change for me vis a vis the new bundles of joy (because it’s all about me) is that for the first time, I have someone occupying the space above my room. Goodbye to two and a half years of peace and quiet. Yes, the babies cry often, every single day. But, their cries - and accompanying noise when their parents are in the room - have become ambient noise. That’s the new normal, and it has not negatively affect how I live. I’m not the one waking up in the middle of night (the power of a white noise machine) tending to fussy babies.

Before the babies arrived in September, there was some mutual apprehension. I was worried that I would get kicked out of the house (because they needed the room or whatever), and my friend were worried I would leave the house (because the extra baby and baby-related noise would be too distracting). Obviously, both worries canceled each other out. I am still renting this studio-sized space from my friends, and I have zero intentions of moving out any time soon. The ability to walk to work is way too precious.

It’ll be interesting and fun to see the twin boys grow up right before my very eyes in the coming years.

Circling back to improv classes. It was not something I wanted to do. My standardized plate of (let’s call them) hobbies - reading, writing, Korean studying, photography - keeps me busy and fulfilled enough. The reason I signed up for improv classes is because of my best bud. A goal of his is to perform improv on stage, and the foundational lessons are the first of many steps. The dream is his. Because I am the world’s most supportive friend ever (slight exaggeration), I signed up alongside.   

Three six-week classes in, I can say doing improv is one of the best things I’ve done this year (even if I don’t count how it tangentially got me to increase exercising). While I have no desire to perform on stage, the skills of improv is hugely applicable to every day life. The main thing is authenticity: you absolutely have to be yourself, and actually let the rest of the world see it. In improv there is no time to consider what other people think. Whatever comes to mind first, that’s the answer. It may indeed sound and look ridiculous, but it’s authentically you.

Improv definitely countered my tendencies toward self-preservation and worrying about what others think. Getting to practice saying and doing exactly what I am feeling - in that moment - chipped away at these ingrained habits. The point isn’t to be rude, but rather be unreserved in expressing what you think and being who you are. I can disagree with a friend without being an asshole. In the before times, I would just not say anything, because I would worry the friend might get mad at my disagreement.

The other big thing from improv is that it’s okay to be boring. A trip-wire in my social skills is the latent worry of being uninteresting, or running out of things to say. In improv, you can and must make interesting from boring. Being too concerned with coming up with something funny or fantastic will lead to locking up. The student ends up pausing with nothing to say in the middle of a scene. The trick is to notice something mundane, say it, then roll with it. The simple act of making coffee can sprout into something interesting. 

In my everyday conversation with people, if there’s a lull in the conversation, I would pick something from immediate observation. It can indeed be the weather, or that street sign is crooked. Another thing I can do is say whatever that pops into my head (true improvisation), with zero care for applicability or fascination. It’s really about offering up something to the other person, and seeing if they want to respond to it. Often times the mention of something ordinary can trigger them into a story or anecdote. When that happens, I only have to listen.

Taking specialized classes as an adult. Check.

Another thing checked off the life experience list this year is getting bitten by a dog. It was friendly fire, no less. At the beginning of the year, a friend decided to adopt from the local SPCA. Rescuing a pet and providing it with a loving home is a deed of the highest order. It is especially so for my friend, because the pit-bull she adopted apparently had a horrific previous life. Due to tremendous maltreatment, the dog fiercely resource-guards, to the point of attacking other dogs and humans. If a dog enters his territory in an unfriendly way, he will defend with his teeth. Come between him and a piece of food, and he will literally bite you in the face.

Thankfully, I did not get bitten in the face. Instead it was my right arm. The dog was eating something, and I got a bit too close for his liking. Compounding my misery is that I should have known better: we were three months into training out his resource-guarding tendencies (all worthwhile things take time, remember). By then I was already familiar with his triggers. One slight moment of carelessness and boom, bite mark scars on my arm for the rest of my life.

My friend - the parent - was even less lucky: bitten twice. I greatly admire her tenacity and determination in rescuing this dog. We make decisions and commitments in life, and the honorable thing would to be see them through to the end, especially when the going gets really rough. No shortcuts, no rewinds. It would be all too easy for my friend to return the dog to the SPCA (where it will get put down for sure) after the second biting incident. But she stuck with it, paid for the many expensive lessons with a trainer, and practiced often when it’s just her and the dog. Those early months were arduous, even for me, an outsider looking in who was only there for some of the time.

The experience increased my appreciation and love for animals. Cruelty towards animals is the lowest of low, and absolutely cannot be tolerated. Show me any feel-good video about pets (reuniting with their long lost parent, for example) and I can easily bawl my eyes out. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 was a surprisingly tough watch.  

It’s fair to say that 2023 is the first year when the COVID 19 pandemic is officially over. China dropping all pretense of control back in December of 2022 was the final buzzer. No more restrictions, no more counting cases and deaths. Masking has become a personal choice. From observation, after three years of heavy masking, we were all too ready to stop. I was happy to do so because the mask material was causing heavy acne breakouts on the face.

What has lingered on from the pandemic is inflation, especially when it comes to food. The standard wage increase we got at work back in 2022 entirely disappeared into the inflated cost of living. The constant theme in 2023 is being surprised at how expensive things have gotten (or remain). You can’t buy a meal these days (for one person) for less than $10. At restaurants of the sit down and get served variety, prepare at least $20. Korean food - a favorite cuisine of mine - is touching $30.

This year I’ve definitely cut back on eating out, at least in choosing the “cheaper” options, if not frequency. A $13 burrito bowl (with extra guacamole) at Chipotle remains a championship choice.

I hope I am not the only person who cannot get used to these sort of prices. I swear the rest of you guys seem to be inelastic to prices. Economics 101: there’s no incentive to lower prices if customer demand never falters. It cannot be normal for hotel prices to start at $200 per night even at the most middling of chains and locations. This customer is highly price elastic, which is why I didn’t travel anywhere in 2023. I cannot stomach paying the inflated airfare and hotel costs. These high prices won’t come back down until there’s more of me out there.

But if people cut back on spending, the economy would immediately go to shit, wouldn’t it? Advertisements to get people to buy things: that’s the whole house of cards. 

Obviously, I do gladly spend money on things I am passionate about. At relatively great expense, I bought a new camera this year. In 2024 I have to start paying for maintenance on the BMW M2 (thankfully the insurance on the car has not gone up with everything else). I will never cease buying books to read, though I try to buy used whenever possible (unless it’s the same price new or used). Got to spend it on something, right? Otherwise, what is the point of working so hard.

Follow my passions: that’s what I want to focus on in 2024. The few important things to take up my time and resources. The COVID pandemic haze is over: time to get on with life. The destination is the journey.

I wish you all the best of health in the coming year.


Top 10 Songs of 2023

1. NewJeans - Ditto
2. NewJeans - OMG
3. Red Velvet - Chill Kill
4. NewJeans - New Jeans
5. IVE - Baddie
6. LE SSERAFIM - Eve, Psyche & The Bluebeard’s wife
7. aespa - Spicy
8. Taeyeon - To. X
9. LE SSERAFIM - Unforgiven
10. ITZY - None of My Business

You Will Miss it When it's Gone - 2022 Reflections

Starting off 2022 with the intention of doing some hard-nosed austerity went straight out the window. Only a few weeks into the new year, I lucked into the elusive PlayStation 5 console being in stock at Best Buy. This set off a chain reaction that led me to spend about $3,000 all in. That’s how I started 2022: with a bang to the wallet.

The PS5 itself is only $500 (before taxes, obviously), but I needed a television to go along with it. My Apple Pro Display XDR – my most spendy piece of kit from 2021 – cannot accept an HDMI connection. I moved into my studio apartment back in November of 2020, and I’ve yet to buy a TV for the place. It’s not something I really needed: everything I care to watch is on the Internet. The MacBook Pro paired with an external display works superbly for enjoying entertainment.

The PlayStation 5 absolutely required a TV. I literally do not have room for another monitor on my desk. As is my wont to not skimp on anything I buy, I bought a 65-inch LG OLED TV to pair with the PS5. It’s a gorgeous display, so much so that I’ve transition quite a bit of online video viewing to the far larger screen. The quality doesn’t come cheap, of course: the LG TV came in at nearly $2,000.

But then I needed a TV stand to place the TV, wanting to avoid drilling into the wall for a wall mount. Kind of crazy how an opportunity to buy the PS5 snowballed itself into an exponentially larger expense. The funny thing is, the Sony console remains super difficult to buy anywhere at the end of 2022! I guess I’m fortunate, pain to the wallet notwithstanding.

The spending floodgate did not abate. I bought a small dining table and stool setup to (finally) finish furnishing my place. I dropped $450 on a set of bookshelf speakers to compliment the MacBook Pro workstation. Gone is relying on a finicky HomePod Mini for sound. The biggest expense in 2022 next to the LG TV is the $1,200 I spent on a new mattress. I could be forgiven for that largess: I’ve had my previous mattress since I was in grade school. For mainly sanitary reasons, it was time to move on.

I cannot pretend that austerity will finally happen in 2023. What I am aiming for is to achieve some semblance of longevity with the things I buy. I very much believe in the adage of buying the best and keeping it a long time. Admittedly I’ve struggled to do so in certain areas. Despite buying some high-quality cars over the year, the longest I’ve managed to keep any one of them is three years. I’m onto the third year of ownership with my BMW M2 Competition, and the goal is absolutely to keep it as long as possible.

There’s also the iPhone, which I’ve replaced every year with the latest version ever since I made enough money to afford my own smartphone. I see that as a necessary expense. My iPhone is the single highest usage of anything I own. It is well worth the price to have the latest and greatest, especially when it comes to my photography vis a vis the advancements to the camera system year over year.

Other than the smartphone, I vow to keep and use the things I have for a very long time. In 2022 I did not upgrade my MacBook Pro – after having done so the previous three years! I like shiny new things as much as the next person, but I really try hard to accept and appreciate the items that I already have. You’ve no idea how many times I have to walk back from the checkout cart on a yet another mechanical keyboard. I keep reminding myself the one I have is just fine.

One area I won’t hesitate to spend money on is creating a homely and stress-free environment. Moving to within a 10-minute walk from work is probably the best thing to emerge out of the pandemic (still ongoing?). Especially so in 2022 when I returned to onsite five full days a week. The freedom of being so close to everything I need is immeasurably more valuable than the rent I am paying.

The neighborhood I’m in now is quieter, greener, and safer than my previous location. It eliminates a huge amount of latent stress that permeates from living in an area of constant loud noises and the fun game of is it fireworks or gunshots? I didn’t realize how much my environment was contributing to my stress and anxiety levels until I moved out of my parent’s place. It was definitely worth selling my beloved 911 GT3 in order to do so. I miss that car every day, but I’m a far healthier person whilst doing so.

Environment includes inside the home as well. The purchase of the TV, PS5, dining table and chair rounds out the furnishing. Money well spent to create a cozy place that I want to spend massive amounts of time in. It’s incredibly relaxing to come home to such a lovely environment. The return on investment here, again, is immeasurable.

You should also spend money on getting rid of the little annoyances in your life. Because those small niggles can add up to big stresses over time. One of the best things I bought this year is rollerblade wheels for my Herman Miller Aeron chair. The quality-of-life increase is tremendous. The chair now rolls effortlessly and quietly. The non-stick surface of my rice cooker’s inner pan was peeling. I replaced it with a new unit immediately, instead of living with scraping vigorously the stuck-on rice after every use.

Some of the little annoyances don’t even cost money to fix. I had this drawer that was not closing as smoothly as it should be. Instead of letting it linger, I took the whole drawer out and checked all the fasteners, some of which were indeed loose. Quick and easy, and I didn’t have to look at the same fault every time afterwards. Out of mind.

As a chronic procrastinator, it’s always been a challenge for me to do things at the appropriate time. So long as I always meet the deadline, it’s no big deal to delay a bit in the meantime. Then I heard on an episode of the Modern Wisdom podcast something profound: there’s a so-called anxiety cost to putting off the things you know you’re supposed to be doing (also known as, procrastination). Until you’ve actually finished the task, it will always be at the back of your mind gnawing at you.

Indeed, I do feel shittier on the days I leave my morning writing to the evening - at least until the work is finally done. This is why I am writing this year-end blog post on the 30th, instead of the 31st. Firstly, that would be cutting it too close. More importantly, the anxiety of having to write this piece would be latent in the back of my mind. I cannot completely relax into whatever I am doing until it is done.

The same applies to stuff at work. Sometimes it’s easy to punt tickets onto next week. But come Sunday evening, that punted ticket would pile onto the dread of the forthcoming Monday. And on Monday, I would be kicking myself: why didn’t I take care of this last week? I think this is a good mental model to follow: don’t let the future you be upset at the current you.

It’s probably an obvious thing to say, but it’s so much better for my mental health to do the stuff that needs to get done expediently.

As I head into the latter part of my 30s, I’m all about eliminating needless anxiety and stress. Some of that is good; otherwise we’d be just living life like zombies. What’s important then is to do the work first, then reward yourself afterwards. On an episode of the Huberman Lab podcast, Dr. Huberman prescribe that we should delay the dopamine hits to after we’ve done the day’s work. Put all the YouTube watching and Twitter scrolling toward the end of the day. The things that need doing comes first.

Sort of a variation on the classic marshmallow test. Probably shouldn’t require a podcast to remind me of something I should have retained from my Asian upbringing (if you know, you know) but nevertheless, the shift to anti-procrastination has had a wonderful affect to my well-being in 2022. I have far less unfinished tasks constantly hanging over me throughout the day like a sword of Damocles.

For me, the best afterwards reward for a solid day’s work is always dinner. Taking my time to eat a slow dinner every day is a non-negotiable joy. Whether it’s with my lonesome, or with a bunch of friends.

After dinner gets slightly tricky. We’ve all done this, surely: launch the streaming app of your choice, and then down the scrolling rabbit hole you go. The indecision on what to watch can be paralyzing, and honestly a huge waste of time. This problem extrapolates out onto the weekend, where presumably you have some significant hours of free time. What should I do? When there are so many options out there, it’s rather easy to get sucked into ruminating on exactly which thing to choose.

As much as possible I try to ere on the side of action. It doesn’t have to be perfect: just pick something quickly and do it! (I’m not talking about scrolling twitter endlessly, either.) Having a few important core activities makes it easier to pick. For me, those are: book reading, study Korean, learning the piano, and playing video games. Whenever I am stuck on what to do, I can immediately jump into any of those four activities. In the aforementioned YouTube rabbit hole, if I’m stuck for something to watch, I would pick Korean-language videos.

Not to say I don’t enjoy a bit of doing absolutely nothing. One of the discovered joys of this year is staring out my room window in the morning with a cup of coffee in hand, and music playing in the background. I would simply zone out and think of whatever that comes to mind. After that, I would write on this blog. That’s my kind of morning routine, one I wish to do forever, day after day.

I hope to achieve as long a forever as possible – human span permitting - by continuing to eat well, sleep consistently, and exercise regularly. In 2022 I returned to intermittent fasting: 16 hours of fasting with an 8-hour feeding window. This basically ­means I skip breakfast. No more oatmeal with two eggs, no more McDonalds on weekend mornings. I simply don’t like to eat that early in the morning. Whatever benefits I get from intermittent fasting is but a bonus to the labor saved in preparing one less meal a day.

As for sleep, this year I solved a somewhat chronic problem of mine: actually falling asleep. We’ve all been there: tossing, turning, switching position, but sleep can’t seem to arrive. Fretting over the fact you can’t seem to fall asleep compounds the problem into a negative feedback death spiral. I already go to sleep and wake at the same time, no matter the day of the week, so that’s not where the solution is.

Instead, my solution is quite simple: spend more time in the bed. For the goal of sleeping a solid eight hours, I actually go to bed about half an hour earlier, for a total in-bed time of eight and a half. That way, I never get stressed about not falling asleep quickly – there’s a buffer built in. This avoids the negative loop of worrying about not getting the proper amount of sleep. I shall fall asleep whenever, and it will be okay the next morning.

As for exercising, I’ve incorporated rucking into my routine. Michael Easter, author of the book The Comfort Crisis, introduced me to the idea. Basically, I bought a backpack with a 30-pound iron weight inside. I would then wear this on my walk to and from work. 20 minutes per day of moderate exercise. It’s supposed to emulate soldiers carrying tens of pounds of equipment in their packs and walking many miles. More intense than walking, but less impact than running. Given a heavy enough pack and distance, rucking can be quite intense of an exercise.

I saw it as an easy and effective way to add an exercise element to something I have to do every day: walking to work.

Eat well, sleep right, and exercise. The prescription is basic and effective, though I am reminded this year that it’s not a solution that everyone can follow. Everyone should be able to follow it, but circumstances may prevent them, at least in the interim. Sometimes people are so down the depression hole that it can be difficult for them to simply get out the bed. Telling them to get more sleep and go workout is inconsiderate at best, insulting at worse.

I never thought I would have two close friends who are currently on antidepressants. I’m not saying this because of the supposed stigma with pills, or that I think the two friends are somehow failures by going on them (far from it). People give an outside appearance of being well-adjusted and highly functioning, so it’s a surprise to find out they are in therapy and on pills. From an egoic standpoint I had the impression that all my friends are thriving and happy. If we are indeed the sum of the people we surround ourselves with, what does the two friends’ predicament say about me?

I’ve certainly been depressed before. I read my way out of it, with many philosophical and self-help books. I guess my baseline was not low enough to require medical assistance, though talking things over with a therapist would no doubt have helped. The anxiety and depression is so bad for my two friends that they need pills to function normally, to feel like they’re not drowning. I am glad they are getting the help they need. I hope with therapy and the antidepressants, they will then be able to fix the underlying issues causing the problem.

Only after that can proper diet, good sleep, and frequent exercise enter into the chat.

One thing I realized this year is how incredibly close and tight knit our friend group is. The support we give each other is amazing. If you need help, someone is there to give it. Moving to a new place? We’ve got your labor covered. Need someone to watch the kids while you go to a wedding? We got your back. The local DMV’s card reader failed suddenly? A friend will bring cash while you are still in line. That last one is me, by the way: I was the one stuck in line without any cash.

Some of us also got into the habit of meeting up for lunch every Friday. A happy bookend to the workweek before the weekend fun commences. We are lucky to have jobs that allow for such frivolousness – leaving for up to two hours for lunch. On the flip side, the morale boost we get from connecting with each other more than offset any supposed loss in productive hours. I think my supervisor sees the value of me skipping out in the middle of every Friday.

The vaunted work-life balance that people want, a huge component to that is being able to spend time with your friends and family. And a huge component to that is being generous of yourself. Give your time and money freely to the people important to you. Whatever you’re currently focused on is almost always less important. Even for me, someone who is known to keep a rigid schedule, have learned to drop everything and be there for friends when called upon.

And it doesn’t have to be an emergency. One of the best nights this year was getting ice cream with my friend and another friend’s dog during a particularly hot evening. My piano practice could wait another day. Doing stuff with the people you love breaks up the monotony of life. That rock will still be there the next day for you to push up the hill, Sisyphus.

Because you will miss it when it’s gone. It’s easy to think this is all static, and everything we cherish today will still be here tomorrow. Of course, that is not the case. I’m acutely aware of this when I hang out with one of my friend’s young kids. I see them on a weekly basis, and it’s kind of amazing to see them change in front of my eyes. The quirks of last week may be gone this week, replaced with another one. Last week you could still kiss them goodbye, but this week the older one thinks that’s too yucky for a boy his age.

The lesson I take from that is to slow down and take notice. Get your head out of your smartphone and smell the proverbial flowers. Be quick to forgive people’s minor faults and embrace their quirks. What you think may be annoying today, you will definitely miss if it were gone tomorrow. My mother lost her mother (my grandmother, naturally) this year. From that I’ve learned to accept the relationship I have with my mother. I may not like her constant nagging, but I know for damn sure I’ll forever miss it when she is gone.

Hopefully not for a very long time.  

Of the many books I read this year, the biggest impact on me is Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The book can be distilled down to one word: excellence. To live a life of excellence, in all domains, in everything you do. From the biggest thing down to the littlest detail. As important as a semester-long work project, or as simple as brushing your teeth. Perform it all with an eye towards excellence. You owe it to yourself to do the very best, and the outside world benefits from it as well.

I correlate excellence to a Japanese tea ceremony. On paper it’s seems an incredibly mundane task: making a cup of tea. The Japanese have ritualized and perfected it into an art form. Every detail matter, from how the cup is placed, to the folding of the napkin that wipes away the excess drip. I witness one such ceremony during the annual cherry blossom festival in Japantown, and the impact have stuck with me to this day.

I try to replicate that kid of dedication and ritualism in all areas of my life. For example: when I make my morning cup of Keurig coffee, I am in full concentration. I feel the lifting action of the lid, the placing of the cup, and the pressing of buttons. It’s a mechanism to keep me in the present and paying attention to it. I am not scrolling through stuff on my phone while the machine is running. Making coffee in it of itself is the point, and not merely a thing to get over with to get to the next task.

I wouldn’t call it Zen, but I am calmer, and it keeps me from speed-running through life. That’s what I like to carry forward to the new year, along with the other positive changes mentioned above.

2022 was kind of a serendipitous year: everything I needed sort of appeared at the right time. Like that time when I had to replace the windshield on my BMW M2. I was somewhat sulking about the unexpected monetary outlay, until a few days later when my boss informed me I’ve been put in for a raise. What are the odds? I don’t know how to explain it: many such good coincidences, big and small, occurred throughout the year.

Obviously I’m not counting on that luck to follow onto 2023. However, I do know what to do to make a year great. Focus on the few core things: spend time with friends and family, read many books, study Korean, practice piano, write on this website, sleep well, eat right, and exercise frequently. For the rest, I will just go with the flow and accept things as they come. I wish you all the very best.


Top 10 songs of 2022

1. NewJeans - Hype Boy
2. NewJeans - Attention
3. aespa - 도깨비불 (Illusion)
4. LE SSERAFIM - Blue Flame
5. STAYC - 색안경 (STEREOTYPE)
6. ITZY - Cheshire
7. Red Velvet - 롤러코스터 On A Ride
8. Jay Park - GANADARA (feat. IU)
9. Nayeon - POP!
10. Seulgi - Bad Boy, Sad Girl (feat. BE'O)

소중한 시간 (Precious times) - 2020 Reflections

Well, we made it! The very end of this crazy year. 

First and foremost, I think it’s important to recognize that those of us that still have our jobs, a place to live, and our health intact: we are incredibly lucky indeed. The suffering of so many who have lost employment, and the unspeakable death toll here in America (one in 1,000 Americans have perished due to COVID-19) is a stark reminder of the utter privilege we have. The privilege of not only surviving through this year of the pandemic intact, but perhaps coming out ahead ever stronger. 

How easily it could have turned out the other way. Be thankful, and give a hand to those in need.

So I’m not going to bemoan the fact all my travel plans in 2020 have been unceremoniously cancelled. I should be somewhere back home in China right now taking in the local sights. Instead, I am writing this at home in San Francisco, once again stuck inside of a lockdown situation. Many good plans have been forsaken this year, and we’ve all gotten immensely familiar with our homes, unable to go anywhere (shouldn’t, anyways). 

And to think, I was right near the genesis of the coronavirus. Way back in January, I was in my hometown of Guangzhou as usual on vacation. News of the COVID-19 outbreak was already percolating out of Wuhan, though at the time it was only news in western media. The Chinese was still suppressing the information locally. The evening news in Guangzhou didn’t mention the bubbling crisis at all. If it weren’t for twitter, I wouldn’t have known about coronavirus until I’d taken the return flight in Hong Kong. 

Never in my wildest predictions did I think that this viral incident from Wuhan would come to consume the entire globe. For a while, it seemed we would be okay here in America. We didn’t effectively lock down until the middle of March. Until then it was business as usual here in the States, even as we learned of devasting news coming out of Italy. Daily death tolls in the hundreds that seemed horrible at the time, but mundane compared to the now thousands that are dying in this country every single day. 

Returning home from Guangzhou, I was more concentrated on picking up the pieces from a relatively dreadful 2019. I had a rather significant bout with anxiety towards the latter half of 2019. The annual trip back to China was suppose to the be a cleansing reboot of my personal operating system, coinciding nicely with the ringing in of a new year. The trip was successful for that purpose, and by the end of January I was on the mend, looking forward to a better 2020. 

A realignment of the department at work (I am tech support at a university, for those who don’t know) threw a bit of wrench into that. It’s difficult to allay anxiety levels when such a major component of my everyday life is in so fluid a situation. Essentially, I got move to a brand-new role, and for the first time in nearly a decade I would be learning a completely new skill-set. Under normal circumstances this would be a tremendous opportunity for growth. However, the departmental realignment was so abrupt that there wasn’t enough time to assimilate myself to a new team. I was stuck in limbo, having to do some of my old responsibilities for the time being, while waiting for guidance on what’s ahead.

It would have had to wait until the Summer months to begin to sort everything out. Of course, COVID-19 abruptly entered the conversation in March. Americans joined the party as the coronavirus began to ravage our continent. New York City was the first hard-hit area, with hospitals running out of beds, and corpses needing refrigeration trucks to haul to the cemetery. It was only a matter of time before the spread comes to other parts of the country. Each region then had the choice: be proactive, or keep the proverbial head in the sand. 

I am tremendously grateful the San Francisco Bay Area took charge and began shutting down well before COVID hit our area. Much kudos to the tech industry for telling its workers to stay home starting as early as February. Our university stopped in-person instruction on the 9th of March, a date I’ll remember for a long time to come. All classes were going remote, utilizing the piece of software we’ve come to know and begrudgingly love: Zoom. 

The once bustling campus turned into a ghost town over the course of a week. San Francisco enacted a stay-at-home order soon after. The euphoria of getting to be at home and not have to physically go to work quickly turned into stress. I was still unfamiliar with in a new team, and now I’m thrusted – along with my colleagues – into this completely strange new instruction method. How to provide support remotely when none of us have really done it? How can I properly participate when I don’t yet know much of anything pertinent to the tasks? 

For much of Spring, I would be supremely anxious each morning to open up the web portal to work. I was scared of my own incompetence, of not being able to contribute, and looking like a fool (hello, ego). What if someone asks me a question that I don’t have the slightest answer to? I got thrown into the deep end of the pool without yet learned how to properly swim.

Paradoxically, there’s no better time to rapidly learn and adapt. To make mistakes and the adjust as I go along. The situation caused by the coronavirus gave me permission to simply go and run with it. So what if I don’t know something? I’d do the best I can to find the information and then provide a solution for the customer. Being kind to others and wanting to help was my guiding principle in how I approached the work. It’s okay to make mistakes so long as the heart is in the right place. 

It would be too easy to disappear under the cloak of remote work and leave the tasks to others, feigning an ignorance of knowledge. I’m glad I didn’t, because 2020 have been the biggest year of professional growth for a very long time. Sad that it took a global pandemic to make that happen. 

I am incredibly lucky to have the shoulder of a giant to stand upon. A coworker of mine on the same team became a mentor of sorts and really helped me through this period. He patiently answers all my (what must sound to him) stupid questions with tremendous detail and clarity. I could not have been nearly as effective in remotely assisting faculty without his guidance and support. It’s a generosity that I hope to pay forward in the future. 

Working from home is not without benefits, primarily the lack of commuting. Early in the year I was still taking the bus to and from work, and the nearly two hours lost each day was something I was looking to decrease dramatically. The long commute on public transport was a great contributor to my elevated anxiety levels last year. The stress of having to slog it back home in a crowded bus after a particularly tough day was huge, no matter how many informative podcasts I was able to consume along the way. 

Driving would have easily cut the commute time in half, but there was a problem. In 2019 I took the “you only live once” mantra to the extreme and bought a Porsche 911 GT3. It’s a type of car that I was not comfortable with parking it on the streets in our working-class neighborhood. Therefore, the car was stored at the work garage instead, only taken out for drives on the weekends. To be able to drive to work, I’d have get a second car. A financially unfeasible ask, given the amount of money I was already paying to have the GT3 around. 

The other solution was to (finally) move out of my parents’ place, to a spot of my own. Somewhere far closer to the work than the other side of the city. The ideal place would be somewhere close enough to be able to walk to work. But this option had the same problem: the bloody Porsche. If it was already monetarily unfeasible to get a second car, then moving out and renting would be nearly suicidal. I could have made it work, but at that point I would truly be “car poor”. 

Even so, I had thoughts and plans of moving out in 2020. Bottom line: how much would you be willing to pay for less stress? 

366-challenge-2020-253.jpg

Obviously, COVID-19 kind of altered those plans. Working at home means no commute! I didn’t even have to get dressed. All things considered, not needing to physically go in to work decreased my stress levels quite dramatically. It was wonderful to reclaim those two hours of the day, to use as I please. I vowed to never commute by bus again. When the time comes and we are able to return to campus, I would either get a car to commute with, or move closer to campus. 

Even though we are still in the midst of remote instruction and work, I’ve been physically going to campus on and off since the end of May. Some stuff you simply cannot do remotely, and I volunteered to go to campus when the time came to do that work. In the name of safety, I was being chauffeured on the days I needed to go to campus. It’s a burden that I loathed to heap upon my family. It did not sit well with me to ask my dad to come pick me up from work after a typically long and arduous day for him. 

Per chance, this year a good friend of mine moved to a house that is only a 10-minute walk from campus. The house happens to have a studio unit available for rent. A perfect storm of compatibility – it’s easier to rent from a friend than a complete stranger – allowed me to move out on my own at the beginning of November. A wish fulfilled: no more slogging commute to and from work. 

But I did not commit financial suicide to do it. A year of zero travel have reaffirmed my affinity and love for traveling. Adding rental cost on top of payments for the GT3 would prevent me from doing so comfortably in the future. The car had to go. As much as I don’t want to admit it, the enormous expense to purchase and run the Porsche was a huge albatross. I don’t regret buying the car, but it was time to move on. To support the move out of the house, I sold the 911 for something a bit for sensible to the wallet: a BMW M2 Competition.

The weight of the Porsche off my shoulders is really freeing, something I didn’t know would happen until I signed over the pink slip. Selling the GT3 would have been beneficial even if I had stayed living with my parents. 

With the coronavirus very much still ongoing, perhaps it’s the wrong year to add the financial burden of renting. Indeed, it would have been more prudent to wait until the vaccine is properly disseminated and things return to normal. While I am fortunate to have kept my job throughout this pandemic, the future is not guaranteed. The smartest thing would be to stick it out at home for longer and build up the war-chest. 

Ultimately though, the timing felt right in my gut to make the move. I turned 33 just some weeks ago, and it’s way pass due (by American standards) to start living on my own and take care of myself completely. The milk isn’t going to replenish itself when it gets low. My parents are also of that age where they’d rather sleep apart in separate beds. With me vacating my room, they can now do so comfortably. 

Having move to a far quieter neighborhood further decreased my stress levels. Where we are located it’s practically a subdivision, so the amount of vehicle traffic is low. There’s also a distinct lack of noisy neighbors playing loud music into the night; I can sleep soundly without needing earplugs. As someone who loves silence and tranquility, moving to this new place is worth every single dollar. 

Even a card-carrying introvert like me can say I was struggling with the constant stay-at-home order towards the end of Summer. By then the pandemic was assured to stretch on for the rest of 2020. I’d no idea how much I would miss sitting down at a restaurant and breaking bread with friends. The movie-going experience is completely gone. I couldn’t go out on drives with fellow enthusiasts because who wants to be the jackass in the Porsche screaming up and down a mountain road? Even visiting friends carries a calculated risk, one that we seldom took. 

I’m used to and love the introverted, homebody lifestyle. I just very much want the rest of you to go back to your regular, extroverted life. One that I can sometimes participate in when I so choose. Like the BTS concert that was supposed to happen in May. 

To keep some modicum of social engagement, our group of friends had weekly virtual Zoom meetings. We’d talk about how things are going (same), and then play some online multiplayer games. During the Summer when the cases went down and places began to open back up, we stopped meeting regularly. Sadly, things made a U-turn heading into Fall. Once lockdown 2.0 happened, we returned to our scheduled Zoom chats. 

We even managed to have a socially-distanced Friendsgiving. 

During other times, I have to say it wasn’t too difficult to keep sane during this pandemic. Long-standing habits I’ve had since way before COVID-19 continued on nonstop: write on the blog, read books, exercise, and study Korean. Aside from the periodic travel, my life pre-pandemic was fairly Groundhog Day-like already. I didn’t have time to stew on the fact that we’re stuck in our homes due to a highly contagious virus with no end in sight. I had stuff to do, so I continued to do them. The lockdown simply provided more time.

I didn’t keep count, but I like to think I’ve read more books this year than in previous. I did quite a bit on Zen Buddhist philosophy, the study of which greatly helped with my struggles with anxiety. Alan Watt’s The Wisdom of Insecurity: A Message for an Age of Anxiety, Michael Singer’s The Untethered Soul, D.T. Suzuki’s An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, and Paramhansa Yogananda’s Autobiography of a Yogi are some of the highlights.

Overall, I have to say it’s been a great year, personally speaking. I found solid footing at work, and had tremendous growth in skill. I finally moved out of my parents’, beginning a new stage of adulthood. In selling the 911 GT3, I got rid of a stressful money pit. Combined with saving up diligently during much of the year (couldn’t spend it on travel/going out), I’m once again back on good financial standing. 

A combination of those things, plus the continued study of philosophy, I was able to lower my anxiety and achieve mental equilibrium.

Did I mention our family got a pet kitten? What a bundle of joy he is.  

More importantly, my family and immediate circle of friends remain healthy and gainfully employed. In a year as turbulent as 2020, that’s is all that we can ask for. For so many, this has been the worse year imaginable. Empathetic as I am, their situation is out of my control. I will continue to work on myself, be better and improve day by day. I will help others whenever possible, in whatever capacity. 

My only great hope heading towards 2021 is for the world to get back to normal as soon as possible. And that those who have lost plenty will be able to regain what’s been missed.

The wisdom I take from 2020 is this: the time we have is precious. 

Top 10 songs of 2020

1. Shaun - Way Back Home
2. Twice - More & More
3. H.I.N.P (Hot Issue of Ntl. Producers) - Rumor
4. Changmo - Meteor
5. ITZY - Not Shy
6. IZ*ONE - 환상동화 (Secret Story of the Swan)
7. 방탄소년단 (BTS) - ON
8. Red Velvet - IRENE & SEULGI - 놀이 (Naughty) (Demicat Remix)
9. Zico - 아무노래 (Any song)
10. 여자친구 (GFRIEND) - MAGO