Sunday, November 12, 2006
My husband is a man who has realized that he is a father first and a student second.
That whatever academic aspirations he has treasured for the past decade, they no longer hold true.
That once he is done, he is done and he is never going to want to go beyond the Masters.
That on numerous occasions, he has looked up from his books and voiced aloud, with a sigh: “I don’t like studying. I really don’t like this.”
That his heart is always with his family and that above all, he would much rather be working for money to raise his kids rather than using the money to benefit himself.
It is the family, really. If he were single, things would be different.
It’s like we are a huge millstone hanging around his neck. But to him, the way he sees it, his studies now are a huge liability in terms of finances and time.
Yes, time. Even though he sits at home all day, I swear, he is forever studying with hardly a break, from the time he wakes up at noon to he time he sleeps at 3am, 4am.
He is sorry he can’t play with Day – who is perceptibly cooler towards his papa – he’s sorry he can’t play with Dee.
Circumstances change, plans change, perceptions change.
He’s talked about the Masters since he graduated from NTU aeons ago, but now that he’s doing it, I think he’d rather not have.
He’s said, that in future, he would tell his kids to do everything they want to do for themselves BEFORE getting a family.
That said, in my opinion, if he doesn’t pass all six subjects, I think it would be a major stroke of bad luck.
He’s put in every ounce of effort possible, seriously, he’s been swotting like mad.
To me, it’s a good sign that today, the day before the exam, he’s put away his books and has basically been chilling out the whole day. No last-minute cramming, which is pretty incredible.
He’ll deny that he’s well-prepared, however. He says he’s relaxing because he’s had it. He’s studied so much, any more would be like forcing food on someone who is full to the point of vomiting.