Coconut jam is ruining my life: The unexpected downsides of a startup job

So apparently the Jobbatical team has been in Malaysia for more than three weeks now. Time sure does fly when you’re constantly in a heat coma and/or hopped-up on seven different varieties of mango.

But it’s not the mango that’s ruining my life, oh no. It’s that sultry temptress, that painted Jezebel, the cruellest of mistresses — Kaya. Coconut motherfreaking jam.

I resisted for a while. My colleagues were raving about it, one of them filled half the fridge with six different kinds of it. I had a couple of slices of Kaya toast and decided I was not convinced. It was nice, sure, but not nice enough to tempt me. Surely buying my own private jar of it would be beneath me. I came here for the fresh fruit and vegetables. Surely.


I’ve had five slices of Kaya toast today and I no longer know who I am. What are my dreams, my aspirations; what is my purpose in life?

Who was I before this happened? Did I have loved ones? Did I ever learn the true meaning of friendship? I may never know.

It doesn’t look like much (and I burnt my toast a bit), but it tastes like happiness feels. Screw you, Auntie Rosie—if that’s even your real name! I hope you drop your teeth in your tea.

If only I could be sure that this madness will end with me. Alas! I already hear her voice in my head, telling me I must bring as much of it back home as I can carry.

I’m landing in Tallinn on the 7th of March. Save yourselves. And won’t someone PLEASE meet me at the airport with a couple of boiled potatoes and a dollop of sour cream? Maybe a sprinkling of fresh dill? I can give you some Kaya in return.

Actually, forget it. I’m not parting with a single droplet of it. Guess you’re gonna have to take your own Malaysian jobbatical.

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