It’s been so long I almost forgot my password to this thing. I’ve been working my derrière off the past year. And rather than apologize for it or write that off as an excuse for why I’ve been neglecting this digital space of mine (which costs a pretty penny, by the way), I’m skipping the broken record of excuses. I haven’t felt inspired lately—because I spend every waking moment working or assisting Kevin in class/rehearsal. I’ve been feeling too exhausted to write—because all my brainpower is spent creating at work, for work. There’s two sides to it. The pro? I’m good at my job. I feel accomplished. Striving for success—perfection—is part of my DNA as the firstborn of Taiwanese immigrants. The con? It’s driven by fear of failure, of being found as an imposter. Workaholism becomes an addiction, and excelling supersedes all else. Prior commitments, personal life, health. All for career growth and opportunities, of course—but will it be worth it? If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll know exactly what I’ve been working towards the last few months. Hindsight is 20/20, so it’s only now that I can say with full confidence that every late night, breakout, and stress-induced binge was not…