This post is part 2 of 3. Part 1 is here, and part 3 is coming later.

Pneumonia

Upon our return from Tokyo the first week of May, I started to resume daily errands and chores, expecting that my lingering cough would go away by itself. However, about one week after our return, my cough got suddenly worse, and then that night I started coughing up small amounts of blood. I couldn't sleep for more than an hour and a half before my cough woke me up, I was definitely running a fever, and my heart rate was pinned at 100-110 BPM.

On 5/14, I went to the UCSF urgent health clinic near us, where the provider was shocked that I had not been x-rayed by either of the urgent care clinics I'd previously visited. The chest x-ray he ordered showed that I had a pleural effusion (buildup of fluid) in my right lung. As a result, he diagnosed me with pneumonia and prescribed me almost the same antibiotics as I had received in Tokyo.

My condition mostly stayed the same over the next couple of days. Even with the antibiotics, I was still coughing a lot, running a fever, and struggling to sleep. Deeply concerned, Sharlene consulted her dad, who has expertise in traditional Chinese medicine. He gave her a long and complicated recipe for a herbal soup; Sharlene then dutifully acquired the ingredients from Chinatown and made the concoction for me.

I noticed a big improvement in the 24 hours after I drank the soup. My fever subsided, my cough became a lot more controllable, and I stopped coughing up blood. Just a couple of days later, I was even able to sleep through the whole night. I can't be sure if it was the antibiotics, the herbal medicine, or both, but I'm happy to credit the herbal medicine.

I spent the rest of the month of May just resting and recovering at home. My cough stuck around for a while, but by the end of the month, I was thankfully able to hike to the top of Angel Island with our friends Reini and Andrew without any issue.

Today, there's still a little twinge of pain that I feel in my right lung when I take a very deep breath. After a variety of imaging, my doctor concluded that I have a small amount of permanent lung scarring. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to actually affect my cardio ability, and I can still hike, bike, and run like I did before.

Mental health

Looking back, I was struggling with my mental health, especially in May and June as I recovered from my pneumonia, though it had started earlier in the sabbatical too and continued later. Even after my physical health recovered, I often felt a lack of energy and interest that I now recognize was probably depression, though I didn't want to admit it at the time.

I have many good friends in SF, but everybody is busy with their own lives, and my very emotionally closest friends are scattered across other cities. When I was stuck in bed with pneumonia, I didn't have the energy to reach out to anybody, and very few people reached out to me. I didn't blame them; they had no reason to think I wasn't well. But I felt isolated and alone. I was very lucky to have Sharlene, but I also knew it wasn't fair to ask her to meet all of my emotional needs.

I felt stuck in our apartment. Everything I considered doing seemed like a big commitment of time and effort. On my short walks around the block, I'd see the usual poop on the sidewalks and the people living on the street or digging through recyclables, and the feeling of dystopia would weigh heavy on my thoughts. I blamed myself for failing to get out and about, and I felt like something was wrong with me for not being happy in the city the way that everybody else seemed to be.

(My hot take is that San Francisco is actually not very convenient as a city. Transit is slow and unreliable, but driving and parking are also hard. Many major stores only exist outside the city; everything is expensive; everything closes early.)

Finally, I struggled with guilt and anxiety that I might be wasting my time. My parents were deeply worried about my being unemployed, and whenever we talked, they would usually remind me that this time of my life was critical for my career development, so I had better find a job soon or else do something to advance, because in just a few years I'd probably have a family to be responsible for, and so I couldn't neglect my career too long. I could tell they were trying to hold back from nagging me as much as they really wanted to, too. And I couldn't ignore what they were saying, because a big part of me shared in these anxieties.

I don't think I ever felt like I deserved the sabbatical, and I often felt guilty for having taken it. During the sabbatical, I always tried to do "productive" things on weekdays because I was uncomfortable with the feeling of resting while everybody else was working. And during the stress and pain of my health insurance lapse and illness, I sometimes seriously wondered if I was being punished by some higher power for taking the sabbatical, because none of that would've happened if I'd just stayed at work like a good and responsible normal person.

At the same time, I didn't feel ready to end the sabbatical yet, because I didn't feel that I had made the most of it. In my mind, I done nothing particularly special so far, and I feared that I would regret not doing something bigger and bolder—something I could only do with a sabbatical, something that would clearly justify having taken the sabbatical in the first place, to both my parents and myself.

From both angles, I felt like I was failing: failing in continuing to take the time off, and failing to do something worthwhile with the time off. Mired in my guilt, most ideas, like watercolor painting or going camping or starting a small personal electronics project, appeared selfish and indulgent. Nothing felt like it would make me or or my parents truly proud or assuage our anxieties, and so I found it hard to rationalize starting anything.

I think this sabbatical was the first time in my life I didn't have external structure or validation. I've always had school or work to define a path for me and reward me. It makes sense, then, that I felt so adrift.

I know that all of this took a toll on Sharlene. I was endlessly complaining about San Francisco, and always contemplating doing things but rarely actually doing much. It was frustrating for her to listen to this, day in and day out.

Some days were better, but many days passed in this way.

June into September

In June, as my physical health returned to normal, I started piecing together a sabbatical life in SF, trying to find a balance of productivity and leisure to get me through the days.

Productive stuff

Sharlene and I ramped up our wedding planning and toured a number of wedding venues throughout the summer. In September, we signed our contract with Palette Tea House.

I worked on researching and contemplating different possible career paths, like getting a business degree, or going to grad school for operations or design. I ultimately decided not to pursue any of these, but was satisfied that I went through the exercise of considering and digging into each one.

By July, I added some online classes to my daily schedule, trying to feel like I was using my time in a productive way. I planned and tracked my days in detail, so each week in my calendar started looking densely packed:

In July, Sharlene told me that she wanted to leave her job at Notion within a couple of months so that we could have some overlapping time off together. This made sense and sounded exciting to me, so I agreed to extend my sabbatical until the end of the year.

Staying afloat + fun stuff!

I started making an effort to practice gratitude daily in my journal.

We visited a few open houses in the Inner Richmond, contemplating a move to a different neighborhood I might like better.

We bought the Nintendo Switch 2 on launch day and had a blast playing the new Mario Kart with my sister and her partner Matthew.

In mid-June, Sharlene helped me break out of my listlessness by helping me clean and tune up our bikes. I had been struggling to muster the energy and motivation needed to get my bike back in order, but after our bike cleanup day, I started road biking again. My friend Alvaro invited me to climb Twin Peaks with him on Monday and Friday mornings, and this became a staple of my weeks. Later, in July, I finally splurged on a power meter for myself and then really got into training, motivated by the data and determined to rebuild my fitness after my pneumonia. I think cycling was good escape from depression and a good anchor in my routine.

Sharlene and I also tried a tandem bike for the first time, and then found we liked it enough to buy our own (used) tandem bike!

I taught Alvaro how to drive stick, and then we attended the Golden Gate Lotus Club's autocross in July—my first time autocrossing since 2018.

We also did some fun traveling in the second half of the summer: A trip to NYC in July for my friend Louisa's wedding; a week back in Walnut; a trip to Seattle in August to visit our friends there; a trip to Denver/Boulder in early September with Reini and Andrew. Some more photos here.

Last but not least, I bought a 3D printer, started renting a small storage unit in my building, and spent a bunch of time setting it up as a space for tinkering. I then completed a couple of small personal projects.

Learnings and reflections

When I look back on the summer of 2025, I find many fulfilling experiences and cherished memories. However, I wonder if I could have been more intentional and bold with my time. Most of the best moments were driven by my friends and family, when they invited me to do things, came up with ideas, or wanted to travel. In contrast, when I was on my own, I mostly operated within self-imposed limitations, trying to feel productive and assuage my guilt.

I now believe that, like most other things in life, taking an effective sabbatical isn't necessarily something that just comes naturally. It requires some thought and involves a set of skills and considerations that may not be obvious.

Here are the main things I would do differently next time:

Focus on just trying things, rather than trying to accomplish things.

During my sabbatical, I evaluated all my ideas along the lines of "is this productive?" or "is this better for my career than going back to work?" I always imagined how my parents would react to each idea, and in this light, most things didn't feel justifiable. Only the safe choices passed this test, like doing online classes or training my cycling fitness. In retrospect, I regret spending any of my time optimizing for safe choices.

Now that Sharlene is on her own sabbatical, I get to see all the ideas she has, and how freely and easily she decides to just spend time trying new projects. She wants to host events, matchmake for friends, build stuff, and so much more. She's not worried about if anything will be "worth it" in the end; it's obvious that the value is simply in just trying the thing and seeing what happens. Her intrinsic motivation roams freely.

My intrinsic motivation was always contending with—and losing to—my fear of not living up to expectations. I could have flipped the dynamic by recognizing the value of just trying things, rather than weighing the possibility of achievement.

Give myself more time upfront.

I originally planned my sabbatical to be four months long, though I knew I had flexibility to keep going. But I already felt like four months was more time than I deserved, so each time I extended my sabbatical (first due to pneumonia, and later at Sharlene's request), I gave myself only the minimum necessary additional time.

I also underestimated the amount of time needed for proposal and wedding planning. And when it became apparent how big these projects actually were, I didn't credit myself with any extra time to spend the way I'd originally envisioned.

I wish I had been generous with myself and just set aside at least the whole year right off the bat, rather than extending a month or two each time. This would have allowed me to defend my sabbatical to my parents (and myself) just once, rather than repeatedly every time I extended it.

In April 2025, I felt like I was at the end of my sabbatical and had no time left. Now, writing this in May 2026, I realize that I was actually just starting my sabbatical.

I wish I had been able to view that whole year ahead of me as a rich and huge opportunity, rather than seeing only a few weeks ahead at a time.

Give myself more budget upfront, and actually spend it.

Sharlene and I are lucky to have a pretty comfortable amount of savings now, so I could have spent more money on my sabbatical and still had a very safe buffer. Instead, I operated with a scarcity mindset, asking myself if each idea I had was worth the cost. Unfortunately, I tend to be frugal when it comes to myself, so most of my ideas did not feel worth the cost.

The only times I spent freely were when other people were involved, like on our engagement, or for our travels, or our camper van purchase later in the year. All of that spending was very worthwhile, and I got back a lot from each dollar.

If I had set aside a decent chunk of money for my sabbatical, and made myself actually spend it, I think I would made more brave and interesting decisions and learned more as a result. For example, maybe I would have left San Francisco rather than feeling trapped here. Maybe I could have pursued the type of car or house project that I never had space for in SF. Or maybe I would have tried the camper van thing earlier and had more time to drive and travel.

While I don't think spending big is necessary to have a fulfilling sabbatical, in my case I think it would have allowed me to explore and grow more.

Hindsight is always 20/20, and these things seem so clear now looking back. But they weren't clear back then, and so I'm glad I went through this learning process. I'm thankful I was able to take this sabbatical so I could struggle, reflect, and grow in this way.

Part 3 of this sabbatical retrospective will cover the last few months of 2025. But to be honest, this Part 2 was the one I most wanted to write. So Part 3 may not come until some time later.