The universe works in funny ways.
Two months ago, after a frustrating and fruitless job hunt, I finally worked up the courage to temporarily forgo my quest for employment and embark on an extended bout through Southeast Asia. Armed with a backpack, a strict budget, and no itinerary, I set off in hopes of eventually learning how to enjoy a life that wasn’t defined strictly by my a career.
Less than two weeks into that trip, I was offered a job, a role I had been explicitly pursuing and in a place I had been wanting to relocate to for nearly 10 years — Hong Kong. I was elated, of course, but after struggling so valiantly to convince myself I wasn’t hemorrhaging my future by pursuing personal dreams, the irony was palpable. But as life has so often taught me, nothing ever plays out as you expect it to.
Soon enough, I was facing yet another momentous leap into the unknown only of a slightly different variety. This time, armed with three more bags, my realized hopes and dreams, and a ramshackle grasp of Cantonese, I set off for my new life in Hong Kong.
Originally, I started this blog to chronicle my travel adventures and the ongoing discord between my unemployed apprehension and a stifled longing to indulge my wanderlust. Though this plot twist may put this publication in jeopardy, I’m vowing not to let it go by the wayside. And while I may not be writing of cockfights or traumatic jeepney rides, that’s not to say that I won’t have anything interesting left to share.
Onwards.
