Happy Tuesday!

I had two days off from school last week, so I flew to Kolkata to spend time with my sister. We eventually decided to travel to Jamshedpur to see some greenery and touch some grass.

On the train ride back to Kolkata, I finished Matthew Dick’s Someday is Today. You should read it—the book will reframe your perspectives about time with its actionable advice and heuristics.

One of the heuristics mentioned by the book was “The One-Hundred-Year-Old Plan”:

What would the version of you on the doorstep of death want you to do?

It’s a concept that I am still practicing today, and I found it helpful to break it down into two questions:

• Will the 100-year-old version of myself remember this situation?
• Will the 100-year-old version of myself regret this choice?

🧠 Will 100-year-old Pei Qi remember this situation?

If 100-year-old Pei Qi is blissfully married, she probably isn’t going to remember that toxic ex who gaslit her in 2023.

(or she’ll remember the ex, feel thankful for her spouse, and continue to work on her marriage.)

If she isn’t going to remember that toxic ex, it means that they aren’t going to matter in the long run.

So why waste precious time and energy in the present on the toxic ex?

If it won’t matter tomorrow, don’t let it matter today.

— Matthew Dicks

🤔 Will 100-year-old Pei Qi regret this choice?

I first learned about this heuristic as the “Regret Minimization Framework”—a label coined by Jeff Bezos.

Back then, I was deciding between my offers from Minerva University and Singapore Management University (SMU).

My financial aid from Minerva was substantial compared to some of my classmates, but I still had to use my savings for my visa, flight, and living expenses in San Francisco.

If I didn’t get a summer internship in my first year, I would completely deplete my savings by the end of Year 2.

Meanwhile, SMU offered me a full-ride scholarship.

My family wanted me to save money. You don’t know anyone in San Francisco. You don’t know how to cook. The U.S. has shootings every day. What’s wrong with studying in Singapore?

Then I learned about the Regret Minimization Framework.

Would I regret choosing SMU when I’m forced to sit through hours of lectures, knowing that I can learn the same material in half the time on my own?

Would I regret choosing SMU when I have to regurgitate knowledge for my closed-book exams, knowing that my future job as a software engineer would always be an open-book application of my knowledge?

Would I regret choosing SMU when I know that, if I’d gone to Minerva, I could’ve lived in a different country every semester?

The answer was yes, to all of the above.

Of course, Minerva isn’t perfect. The small number of allowed absences and assignment extensions can be punishing, especially when you have to prepare adequately for every class.

But having classmates from 60+ countries and learning about their unique perspectives on life? Seeing these classmates choose their paths intentionally, in line with their values and beliefs, and do well on these paths?

Totally worth it. No regrets.

❌ Minimizing regrets doesn’t mean taking on unnecessary risks

If Stanford offered me a spot, but I had to sign a 200k USD loan to pay for everything, I would choose SMU over Stanford.

My family doesn’t have 100k SGD in assets, let alone 200k USD in cash, so they won’t be able to save me if things go poorly.

I also wasn’t successful in securing a scholarship during my gap year. I could continue applying for scholarships throughout undergrad, but getting one isn’t guaranteed either—so I could end up graduating with debt that is difficult to climb out of.

Ultimately, there’s no right or wrong choice, only the most suitable and informed choice that creates the least regret.

❌ Minimizing regrets doesn’t mean you will have no regrets

I have a lot of regrets.

In 2021, I had to decide between taking a bus or a taxi home from a medical appointment.

The taxi costs at least $25, and with the evening rush hour traffic, it’ll take 45 minutes to reach home.

The bus costs $2 and takes almost two hours.

Afraid that my grandma would chide me for “wasting money” on a taxi, I took the bus.

I had work the next day—my fifth-to-last day at IBM, since I wanted to prepare for university—and my project was still buggy.

I didn’t want to hand over a buggy project and leave a bad reputation, so I told my grandma that I’d be working in my bedroom.

My grandma understood, so she left me alone to work.

Less than an hour later, I stopped working because I heard a crash from the bathroom.

My grandma had a stroke. The blood vessel bursting kind, not the clotting one.

She had been taking blood thinners every day for a long time, so her brain didn’t stop bleeding.

I regret taking the bus. I regret prioritizing my work so much.

All this pain, because my 2021 self thought I had time.

I now know that I don’t have time.

So while I still care about my academics and grades a lot, I try to care less about them each year to make time for other things, like visiting and traveling with my sister.

And when I do create regrets—and I know I will, because even AI does not have 100% accuracy—I’ll learn from my mistakes and strive not to repeat them again.

That’s the plan, anyway. I’ll check back next year and see whether it works.