The One Where I Decide to be almost as Emo as when I was a 16-year old

I hate wearing watches. I always have. Whenever I'd be given one as a birthday or a Christmas present, I'd wear it for a day and then stuff it back in its box and leave it forgotten in the dresser until I'd discover its batteries have run out and the hands no longer tick.

But since I've been working for six months, I've been wearing a plain silver watch that my Papa gave my Mum how many years ago. I used to always say, I'd never wear a watch. If I would ever wear one, it'd be purely as an accessory. 'Who needs a watch, when your mobile phone can tell the time?'

But I guess things change. You grow up, get over the watch 'rashes' and stop wearing leather straps.

Is it a coincidence? Me wearing watches after Papa died? Yes. But can I use it a metaphor? Definitely.

See, I've never thought I would get to this age. I always thought I would die at a young age just because I didn't have all the answers, because I couldn't see the future - because everything was uncertain. And I hate uncertainty. I rarely take chances and abhor the idea of regret.

When I was in high school, I couldn't decide on what course to take because I simply couldn't see myself beyond the carefree life of high school. In college, when I had finally settled on a course, I couldn't decide what I wanted to do in life because I couldn't see myself doing anything else except study. When I did get into my first job, I was afraid to quit because I had no idea what else I could do out there in the 'real world.' And now finally on my second job, I am still lost and teetering at the edge of 24 into 25 years old and still afraid of not having achieved anything.

Wearing a watch has served as a constant reminder. A reminder of the hours, minutes and seconds that pass by that is ultimately time that I'll never get back. Time that I have wasted.

Loosing someone so important in my life hit me so hard, it might as well have been right between the eyes. Death is inevitable. The time that we have now, we have to spend with the people we love and doing the things that we are passionate about. I read all these articles and hear advice from friends that failures are life's greatest teachers. We have to fail, we have to experiment, we have to make mistakes and start over and rise above, to succeed and to soar.

So as I look at my watch and weigh the months, days and weeks that I'll never get back and the months, days and weeks that I have yet to live, I'd rather spend this time fucking up and learning the hard way. Because if regret is my worst fear, I'm going to do my damndest to make sure it never catches up with me.

So I guess what I've been trying to say is that I'm resigning from Spain. When exactly? I don't know yet. The important thing is that I've decided. And its a huge load off my chest.

If HR reads this, I guess they'll have to blame the watch.