I am comfortable. Not rich. It took me many years – more than half my life – to get to where I am now. I worked, saved and invested a little.  I took the conventional route.

Yes, there are tech and business entrepreneurs who create apps, run mammoth companies and earn mega bucks. Yes, there are singers, actors/actresses, sportspersons and influencers who make eye-watering amounts of money, and live lavish lifestyles. I am not one of them.

I’ve worked since I left university in 1985. Yes, that long ago. From selling sewing machines to advertising space to writing to editing to public relations. They were not all interesting, fun or well-paid jobs or projects. A number of nice employers. Some difficult clients. Plenty of ups and downs. Many trying moments. Numerous unreasonable demands. Several late payments. Various bad debts.

After a little over a decade, I left my salaried jobs. Set up my own one-person company. Then with a partner. Back again on my own when my partner left to get married. And, remained a one-person company until late 2017. Through it all, I persevered. I believe it was the knowledge and experience acquired at each stage of my career (not too sure about my sewing machine stint) that set me up with the skills set, the value-add, that I was able to bring to the negotiating table. And, thereafter earn more reasonable money. It certainly didn’t happen in the first few years of my career or easily.

Save. Whatever was left at the end of the month after rent, transport, personal supplies and food. Savings or not, for my second job selling advertising space, I needed a car. The job required me to visit clients in and around Kuala Lumpur. Coming from small town Alor Setar, I had no idea where north or south of the city was. I couldn’t read maps to save my life. No Waze. No Google Maps. No mobile phone.

Anyways, I got myself not a second-hand but many-hands old clunker, a manual Ford Escort Ghia 1.5. Using my salary as collateral, I bought it on hire-purchase at a second-hand car dealership along Old Klang Road. It cost RM5,400. That was the price of the whole car, and I couldn’t afford it. Slowly but surely, I paid off my hire-purchase loan.  I had less to save each month but I became the owner of my very first tangible asset/investment. The thing I remember most about my tangy sunset orange coloured car was its reverse gear. It was a mean feat to engage. Push down and back. Honestly, it required Popeye’s spinach-chugging strength. This is true. Too many times, I just drove forward until I found a U-turn, a roundabout or large enough road to avoid reversing. It sounds funny but it really wasn’t especially in busy traffic.

I moved up a little. Another many-hands car – a Daihatsu Charade with easily engage-able gears. I made sure of that. I drive a Subaru now. It’s not top of the range but I like it, and the best part is its wholly mine. I’ve always liked the fun looking, yellow Volkswagen Beetle 2-seater Coupe. I can afford it now but I know I don’t want it enough nor do I want to spend my hard-earned cash on a car that will depreciate as I drive out of the showroom.

Gratefully, I’ve never wanted for very much. Especially not designer labels or things above my paygrade. I do own a few labels now. Mostly bought for me. My weakness has and will always be desserts of all varieties. Chocolates, cakes, ice-cream and biscuits. Affordable stuff.

Invested in a home and a few income earning instruments. My husband and I have a roof over our heads. Paid via the traditional route of a mortgage – monthly deductions from our pay cheque to our lender bank. Owning our home was also a gradual process over many years. This to me is the single most important and kindest thing we have done for ourselves. A home to return to – a sanctuary– that’s all ours.

Investment instruments? Despite working as a business and finance journalist, I can’t count beyond ten, am absolutely useless with figures and have no investment sense. I do have a few shares, mostly bought by my husband. And term deposits at paltry rates. Sigh.

The point is this is what normal people like me, the everyday Jill, Joe or Kanamma, without any app making skills, acting, singing or sports talent, inheritance, connections or privileges – no silver spoon to call my own – do to get somewhere in life. Work. Work some more. Save a little at a time. Invest carefully for a rainy day, and old age.

It’s not a complaint. It’s life.