five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

It's been a year since I transferred companies.

That's three hundred sixt-five days.

That's eight thousand seven hundred sixty hours.

That's five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.

In hindsight, I know that what I did was the right choice for me at the right time. Although at that time, I seriously doubted it. This has been reinforced by me knowing that a lot of people left my previous company after me.

I took a chance taking a job that is complete opposite of what I'm used to. Work hours are longer. Before, 14hr days were project-based. In a year, I'd experience that for a maximum of two months, collectively speaking. Now, it's the norm. The long days is taking a toll on my body. The stress that I'm getting has physically manifested, as well.

Without the move, I wouldn't be doing something I really love. Without moving in, I wouldn't have met the one I love and want to be with for the rest of my life.

Last Monday, my mom suggested I resign.

I thought about it for a minute.

No way. Every single minute was worth it.

At least, Not Yet.