It is convocation time. That is when universities let ou hordes of young people into the unsuspecting work force. When the young graduates race to figure out the rules of the ladder game, and when they try to find the shortest lift trip to the corner office with the view.
This is when they start living out everyone's dream: their own, their parents', their boss'.
They are the ones who are thought to be well on their way to making it, especially considering that education has such a high premium here.
Their relatives are impressed, their parents are proud -- and for good reason. The paper chase here is not easy.
Sometimes, however, we forget that graduates are in the minority. According to last year's census, only 4 per cent of Singaporeans are university-educated.
While graduates try to figure out the rules, ambitious non- graduates are struggling to make their own rules.
Take 24-year-old Xavier, for example.
He dropped out of polytechnic in the middle of getting an engineering diploma because his grades suffered after he realised he had no interest in the subject.
What he really wanted, he felt, was retail.
So, for three years, he drifted from one retail job to another.
At one time, he took a job selling ads, but left after he realised that he was taking orders from young executives who had less sales savvy than he did.
What he really wanted, he said, was to start an agency organising leisure activities for busy executives.
"At the rate we're going," he said, "people are going to get really stressed out in future.
"I see money in this."
He also worried for those who have to struggle to survive in a place where the cost and standard of living is always rising.
He knew someone, he said, who had only an N-level certificate. Wanting to give his family the things he could not afford, he began to deal in drugs in Thailand.
He is behind bars there.
Xavier wondered: if he was at the end of his tether, would he have done the same?
Sometimes, the psychological toll on those who do not make it academically are very high.
Take Xavier's friend, Perry.
Now 21, Perry sells CDs at a store in Far East Plaza.
He draws about $2,000 a month, and the store-owner allows him to run the show.
When he first realised that he would not make it into a junior college or a polytechnic after his O-level, he was crushed.
"I felt I was useless," Perry said. "But luckily, my father believed in me. He said I wasn't useless. Just different from other people."
Perry, street smart and confident, is one of the lucky few.
More often, when speaking to social workers and teachers, I hear about parents who believe there is only one route to success, and do just the opposite of what Perry's father did, crushing fragile, young self-esteem in the process.
"Frankly, I'd love to be working in some office, walking in wearing a shirt and tie and looking really good," Perry said.
"But I know myself. I'm not the type to study and become an executive."
He is seeking alternatives.
"How long can I keep selling CDs? So many stores on the same floor, low margins and people still bargain," he said.
In a light moment, he grinned and talked about how he was struck off from the Fame awards.
The plan was to become famous and start a business that people would flock to. But he did not make the cut.
Then he turned a little more serious as he talked about other options. Another CD store tried to buy him over, another person asked him if he would consider modelling, insurance or even real estate.
"Real estate -- yeah," he said. "But later. Who's going to trust a 21-year-old?"
So the tentative plan is to use his sales skills in insurance, perhaps, and then in real estate. Or he may take over his father's pub in the Duxton area.
It is not something he relishes -- the late nights, the constant drinking, entertaining and being engulfed in smoke.
Even now, to make sure his father gets home safely, he helps out after his shift when the store closes at 9 pm.
"The good thing is, it doesn't take much to make me happy," said Perry, who still has not given up on trying for the Fame awards.
"I'd be content with a Housing Board flat, a wife, two kids, and enough income so that my parents wouldn't have to work."
Of course, there are those who choose not to go to university, like Leslie, 24, who did not complete his A levels because he found the classes impractical.
He took up Business at a polytechnic, and handled publicity for a theatre company.
While his parents did not have any violent objections, his friends would remind him that he could have made more money easily elsewhere.
"Sure, sometimes I get pretty envious when I think of the money other people make," he said. "But even if I earned more money elsewhere, I wouldn't enjoy myself.
"So many of my friends, accountants and executives complain about their jobs, their bosses, the lack of direction in their lives."
What he really wants to do is to be part of the push to make Singapore theatre stand out, so that when foreigners think of Singapore theatre, they will not think Lion Dance, and Singaporeans will not think Les Miserables or Phantom Of The Opera.
"If you believe in a cause, nothing else matters," he said.
"So I've broken the rules, but I prefer this to battling in the jungle."
That takes real guts.
Perhaps too many of us have forgotten that believing in what you do brings you closer to true success than any number of certificates will.