Next month I'm going back to school and looking back how far I've came before actually starting my degree got me thinking. I've actually wasted three precious years of my life. Yeah, you might go on saying it's all experience, nothing is wasted and stuff like that but personally? I wasted. A lot. Been in and out of colleges for the past one and an half year. Met a lot of peoples. Most of them became good friends. Some of them became kinda of a family. Actually, I got like five people from college calling me their big brother and two of them are girls. Haha! Been working part time in IKEA for two years. Well that is something I would say an experience. Started to earn my very own money. Kinda understand the true value of it. Though sometime I overspend it. It's a whole different world the in the big blue box. Those people in my department are like my second family. Not intermediate family but just family. Had an department outing last Friday. It's the first one I'm attending after two years working in IKEA. People are surely different when they are not wearing their yellow uniform. I spend most of my time in IKEA planning kitchen for the many people. All type of people. Old, young, foreigner, locals, white, black, male, female, family, couple or single. Different people, different taste but one common thing. They want their kitchen to look good but burn a hole in their pocket. I learn to brush my communication and socialize skills by meeting these people. Sometimes, I'm afraid I would like have killed their kitchen dream especially when they say they would think about it and come back later. But when their really do, it feels good. They got like people from all over Malaysia working in IKEA. Different people all wearing the common thing. The bright yellow uniform. Sitting down with one co worker talking about how he got into IKEA got him talking about his time in the army and some accident he had while doing some military exercise which injured the nerves on his left arm. The other day, another yellow friend was talking about his life while sipping coffee during break time. I don't know why but people always tend to open up their story to me. Sometimes thing I say unintentionally ends up motivating them and they would just smile. But no one seems to listen what I've got to say. I suppose its the law of the universe. One can only take or give at one given time. If I listen to one's problem then I shall not speak to one about my problem. But then again, I'm not the type who goes around talking about my problem. After all, it's my problem. Just noticed I've been writing everything in one paragraph. I'm 22 years 2 months 2 weeks old at the time I'm writing this. What a coincidence. Now I'm on a 16 days off from work. So much to say but too much to write. I guess I now know whats causing my headaches. Too much thinking. Can't help it. It's on auto pilot. I need to stop thinking too much.
