When I was a kid I thought that, by the time I hit 24, I'd probably figure it out. I'd know what I was doing, where I was going, what this thing called "life" meant.

It's shocking to find out I was wrong, at least in some sense.

I mean I get some things. I know what I like about some kinds of work, what I don't like about others, and the like. I know I like traveling. I know I like the kind of business-oriented work I'm doing now -- WAY more than I ever thought I would. It's amazing how creative and fun capitalism can be. But I also know I don't want to stick with this organization forever, and I'm not even sure that healthcare will stay interesting for too much longer.

I know I probably should have been trying to explore this stuff while I was in college. And to some degree I did -- internships and the like. But there was a lot of stuff going on in college. There was the whole "I'm thousands of miles from home and suffering major depression" thing, and the "immigrant parents friggin expect a doctor in the family" thing, and the "my dad was diagnosed with cancer" thing. This isn't an excuse. There's no reason to try and make "excuses" on a blog. But it's an attempt to try and figure out why I didn't wring every bit of promise out of those four years. I spent a lot of time either following what I thought was a pre-determined path or just keeping my head down.

So, as unnerving as it has been to be rootless, it's also felt a little liberating too. While I feel like I wasted some time back there, it's nice to have a fairly open field of choices right now. It's nice to look ahead and consider some different long term goals. This blog is part of those goals -- a way to try and explore that process through writing.