short-term goal: fatten my bank account.
middle-term goal: have a salary that is deem worthy to support a family.
long term goal: start my own business.
---
On my way home, I was contemplating these ideas as I watched how the world seemed to pass by outside, and the silence inside the FX aroused my inner anxieties. I could post again about those fears and worries I'd been harboring for some time now, but for the sake of this brief optimism, I'd tell a story of how my dreams of becoming filthy rich ever started.
A long long time ago, we were struggling to keep afloat. Mom was the only earner in the family and dad was nowhere to be found. I used to dream about having a car - to the point of pretending to own a car and showing it to my newfound friends telling them that I just can't get in because the key is with my mom.
Those childhood dreams slowly manifested as dad appeared to us again as a tabloid editor. By grade six, we had our first car. By first year high school, dad was already sporting a Nissan Sentra. Although it was his car, but the fact that he owns that car means everything.
During my third year high school days, I often confided to my friend my dreams of leading a group of companies one day. I never loose sight of that dream, even if the price of it was failing in all schools I took an entrance exam choosing Business Admin as my first choice of course. Those days, I was fixed on becoming a Management student, but my grades - especially in math were all failing. However, despite my poor performance with numbers, I was, for a time the brightest student in our history class. I was even competing with our soon-to-be-valedictorian in the fields of social sciences.
But I was still holding on to the dream. Never did I thought of shifting my course leaning towards the arts.
However, since no university would admit me, my mom asked a special favor to my tita who was the AB faculty secretary in a big university. Since my grades in social sciences are outstanding (and perhaps the results of my entrance exam minus math was convicing), I was taken in... and I've spent an entire college life drowning in letters and social sciences.
By third year college, dad was already filthy rich. He owns one of the biggest tabloid in the country and I was performing great in my major. I conditioned myself to be the next in line to his throne, despite the presence of his mistress. I thought I am ready. In fact, when dad went on his European tour, I was tasked to manage alone his holdings for two weeks. It made me feel confident about myself.
After graduation, I immediately worked for my dad. My friends claimed that it wasn't really work since I was the one dictating my own time schedule and days of work. Probably they were right. I was catapulted to the higher positions without realizing the value of work. Less than three months after I've started, I had no discipline.
I would just do the things that I like and leave after boring myself with it. Although I still learn from the experience, but the training is insufficient to back me up going to the top...
September 2003. After reaching the top, life drastically changed for all of us. Never did I thought that in one snap of life's finger everything will be taken away from us.
to be continued...
middle-term goal: have a salary that is deem worthy to support a family.
long term goal: start my own business.
---
On my way home, I was contemplating these ideas as I watched how the world seemed to pass by outside, and the silence inside the FX aroused my inner anxieties. I could post again about those fears and worries I'd been harboring for some time now, but for the sake of this brief optimism, I'd tell a story of how my dreams of becoming filthy rich ever started.
A long long time ago, we were struggling to keep afloat. Mom was the only earner in the family and dad was nowhere to be found. I used to dream about having a car - to the point of pretending to own a car and showing it to my newfound friends telling them that I just can't get in because the key is with my mom.
Those childhood dreams slowly manifested as dad appeared to us again as a tabloid editor. By grade six, we had our first car. By first year high school, dad was already sporting a Nissan Sentra. Although it was his car, but the fact that he owns that car means everything.
During my third year high school days, I often confided to my friend my dreams of leading a group of companies one day. I never loose sight of that dream, even if the price of it was failing in all schools I took an entrance exam choosing Business Admin as my first choice of course. Those days, I was fixed on becoming a Management student, but my grades - especially in math were all failing. However, despite my poor performance with numbers, I was, for a time the brightest student in our history class. I was even competing with our soon-to-be-valedictorian in the fields of social sciences.
But I was still holding on to the dream. Never did I thought of shifting my course leaning towards the arts.
However, since no university would admit me, my mom asked a special favor to my tita who was the AB faculty secretary in a big university. Since my grades in social sciences are outstanding (and perhaps the results of my entrance exam minus math was convicing), I was taken in... and I've spent an entire college life drowning in letters and social sciences.
By third year college, dad was already filthy rich. He owns one of the biggest tabloid in the country and I was performing great in my major. I conditioned myself to be the next in line to his throne, despite the presence of his mistress. I thought I am ready. In fact, when dad went on his European tour, I was tasked to manage alone his holdings for two weeks. It made me feel confident about myself.
After graduation, I immediately worked for my dad. My friends claimed that it wasn't really work since I was the one dictating my own time schedule and days of work. Probably they were right. I was catapulted to the higher positions without realizing the value of work. Less than three months after I've started, I had no discipline.
I would just do the things that I like and leave after boring myself with it. Although I still learn from the experience, but the training is insufficient to back me up going to the top...
September 2003. After reaching the top, life drastically changed for all of us. Never did I thought that in one snap of life's finger everything will be taken away from us.
to be continued...
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