I had always wanted to be a pilot. I know this sounds really silly and totally random, but it's true. When I mention this to other people, they generally laugh or deride me and never quite take what I say seriously.
Of course, I would laugh too, because how could I possibly be a pilot? I am not qualified.
I remember we were in JC, right after a lecture had ended at one of our lecture theatres and we were seated at the second or third last row of the theatre as usual. We must have been in J2, because I was looking - secretly excitedly - at this pamphlet of the RSAF (air forces). It was a recruitment advertisement for people to sign up and be a pilot. And I thought, damn, I would love to sign up and do this. I remember Megan was looking at it too, although I don't know what her interest in it was; perhaps it was just a passing interest at something you happen to pick up.
I glanced through it quickly to see what qualifications one needed to sign up, thinking to myself that if it was fitness level I shouldn't fare too badly.
And then I stopped short at the height restriction and looked back again. Height restriction?! I was never going to be 165cm, no matter how smart I was, how fit I was, or how capable.
And so that was that. A dream I had harboured for a very long time was swiftly killed through no fault of my own other than natural forces. It still makes me sad sometimes when I think that I would have really loved being a pilot and being up in the sky amongst the clouds. Glorified driver notwithstanding, I would have been really proud to be a pilot, even for a commercial airline.