Twenty-five years (and 2 weeks) old but still impressionable at heart.

Needless to say, this New Year lived up to its name by bringing a lot of major changes in my life.

For one thing, I was finally able to move out of my parents’ houses to a place of my own (more on that later).

For another, I am a newly-minted writer.

– Well, a junior copywriter to be exact, but for all intents and purposes, my job description now includes the word “writer.”

A typical day starts at 9:30, something I still can’t wrap my mind around after years of clocking in for work at 8.

My new place is so close to the office, I just take a lazy 10-minute stroll memorizing my new neighborhood.

Far from the glitz and glamor that is Dubai, I feel right at home surrounded by 3-star restaurants, budget supermarkets, and the odd “dollar” shops selling just about anything.

Our office is quite small just like our advertising agency is small compared to the likes of big leagues (think Ogilvy, Burnett, etc.)

We are about thirty strong, a team composed of graphic designers, account executives, and two writers – that’s junior me and the creative director.

No two days are the same in the studio, though the cycle (for lack of a better word) is as follows: account executive meets client, he/she returns to the office with a brief, and one or two graphic designers and writers assemble for said brief.

Easy?

Well, not exactly.

Clients don’t always know what they want, account executives don’t always communicate the right brief, and writers and graphic designers don’t always nail it on the first draft.

Top all of these with a crazy deadline, and you will find more than half the studio still hard at work long past 6:30 p.m. when we are all supposed to dash home.

I personally don’t mind going home a little bit later.

Work ethics aside, living 10 minutes away from the work place is a real game changer.

I’m definitely more productive now, though I have very little choice to be anything but.

The independence that comes with living alone has the very serious downside of having to do everything by myself.

Especially cooking.

I never had to cook a day in my life, because both my parents are amazing cooks.

Now, I have to cook every day, because living off on take out is simply not practical.

And then there’s cleaning, doing the laundry, shopping for groceries, paying the bills, and getting enough sleep to do all these things and more.

Last week for example, I attended one of my officemate’s live gig in Wings and Rings and wound up getting home past 10.

Back when I lived with my parents, I would have just crawled into bed after a night out, but I can’t do that now.

No amount of my parents’ nagging would have made me the adult I have become in the one-going-on-two months I have lived by myself.

It’s one of many things I would not have learned any other way.