Thoughts at my desk

It is my second day back in Guangzhou. From my desk I look at the Pearl River with a little sadness. I have no clear assignment or goal at work, so for now I can only sit with the uncertainty. I am worried and, in a way, not worried: it feels like the pause before something new begins.

I still have not found work I truly enjoy. At graduation I was excited about Web3. Six months in the field stripped away much of that excitement. My high expectations made the disappointment sharper. I started treating a job as a way to earn a living and putting more energy into my own media projects. Yet that split leaves me dispirited for much of the day. I need to think it through.

I used to imagine a simple trade-off: better pay for harder work, more freedom for less pay. Now I wonder whether a more independent role, such as sales, might give me both room to grow and an income without a fixed ceiling. Making things offers another path. Combining production and sales might eventually let me work as an independent creator. For now I picture a route from strong salesperson, making things on the side, toward someone who can both make and sell. I am exploring my own projects, writing about a thousand Chinese characters a day, and reviewing what I can improve.

I cannot predict who I will be in five years. I can keep my energy and willingness to learn. It comforts me to remember that many people who graduated with me face similar worries. I want to hear how they spend their days and what they are doing to change them. A conversation with a woman yesterday reminded me how much an honest account from a peer can help.

The Guangzhou sky is gray today. The Pearl River keeps flowing outside the window, listening, perhaps, to this city. Does it hear the worries of one person at one desk in one office tower?