Certified Qualified

Everyone has a paper qualification these days. Any Tom, Dick or Harry, Jane, Mary or Lucy, Ahmad, Ali, Raju, Ramasamy, Ah Chong, Ah Kau, Ah Beng, Siti, Aminah, Rafidah, Ah Hua, Ah Lian and Ah Ling, can get a diploma or a degree.

All it takes is a little bit of cash.

Which is why despite having three different certifications, the latest addition being my Masters in Publishing, I still feel... human.

I can't write articles at break neck speed, my words don't cause nations to rise or fall, nobody cries because they are moved by my poetry (not that I write any) and Singapore still has better shopping than Malaysia.

In fact, having recently tried, but in vain, to come up with copy for a self-initiated advertising project, I was dead sure that I was partially deaf and adhered to the wrong calling when I enrolled for journalism in college. Youthful confidence has once again lead me astray and cost me hundreds of thousands in real money (as opposed to monopoly money).

A chat with a friend earlier, however, has taught me different.

According to the friend, my potential employer considers me too good and worry that they cannot afford me. Me! Hah!

But as long as they believe that, so will I. Fingers crossed they don't realise it before the contract is signed and the pay is fixed. :)