- Fasting and furious -

1st June '18

I always enjoy the last days of something.

The last days of university, the last days of school, the last days of term...

Whatever it is, the last days of anything are always enjoyable. There's just something rewarding about knowing that you're reaching the end of something.

This term was no different, and my mood picked-up a bit for the final week or so of term; just two days of which now remain. But with so many people leaving, it feels like more of an ending than normal.

More for them than for me, which is enjoyable because when people get to the end of their tenure somewhere, they become more liberal with their words, because gone is the fear of reprisal.

One of the people who's leaving only started here last September, and I was speaking to him about why he was leaving.

"Because I'm miserable all the time," he responded. "I just spend all my time working, and I have no time to do anything..."

Yep. That'll happen when you get unnecessary split shifts and your boss insists on giving you endless new levels to plan for no reason.

He continued, "and people are always talking about how we're going to be fired."

Yep. That'll happen when your boss sends around an email telling everyone that they're going to be fired.

This poor guy only started in September, so never really got to experience this job back when it was a good place to work.

Those first couple of terms he was getting his feet wet, and then bam, suddenly a retard was in charge.

And imagine how he must feel, when he just starts working here, and then an email gets sent around saying that we're overstaffed and people have to get fired.

That sucked for every single teacher, but I at least had some grounds to think 'well, I've been here long enough and work well enough that it probably won't be me.' Imagine if you've just walked through the door.

Not only are you going to feel like you're at the front of the line for dismissal, but even though no one actually felt like this, it must make you anxious of how other people view you.

You just started working here, and now they're being told they might lose their jobs because of overstaffing.

It's a testament to him that he actually lasted here this long.

But seeing as I can now say with relative confidence that this email about firings was an idle threat from a manager clueless about people-management, just used to try and get his way...

It makes it an even more grotesque action than it seemed at the time.

This guy's actually going back to live in China. That's how bad things are here.

But he wasn't the only one speaking with a freer tongue than usual. I honestly couldn't give a fuck if I lost my job tomorrow. I almost quit once this term, and a part of me regrets that I didn't, so I'm not really censoring my views about things, and other people are the same.

This is no longer a job worth keeping. No one here's happy anymore.

And in this vein of free speech, it was good to get some reassurance that I wasn't the only one to think this was by far the worst term since I started working here.

It seemed to actually be a fairly common view that no term has ever been as miserable as this one, so... it was good to get some reassurance that it wasn't all in my head.

Or I guess that it was. It might be an easier problem to fix if I was imagining it all but... nope, everyone feels the same.

It makes me wonder whether or not I'm going to make it to the end of next term.

That's my goal, and as I wrote the last blog, I was feeling it was about 50/50 whether or not I would.

Thanks to my upturn in mood, I'm slightly more optimistic now, but it's by no means a sure thing. I have no qualms with walking away from this job at a moment's notice if it's not in my interest to remain here.

And what I kind of mean by that, is that after next term, I get a term off. So I won't be back working again until late September. That's almost four months from now and... who knows what'll change whilst I'm away?

I don't really have anything specific in mind when I say that, but this school doesn't have a history of long-serving managers.

My first lasted just over a year. My second lasted under a year. And these two were both very well-liked and respected.

So you can't help but wonder, how long can someone who's unanimously disliked last for?

Sod's law would be that this is the one with a bit of staying-power but... he must know.

He can't be so ignorant to reality to not sense the mood around the school.

Can he?

I guess that I wouldn't put it past him, but assuming that he does understand how people feel... well why would he want to stay?

Right now he has the perfect out, in that he's still manager of another branch. He could simply say that the workload is too much and that he wants to just return to his other branch. Because who benefits from him keeping this position?

Certainly not the teachers, I can promise you that. That is one dejected and demotivated group of people right now.

Not the students either, because they're being taught by dejected and demotivated teachers.

Does he benefit from being in a position where he's neither liked nor respected? I mean, that bad energy alone can't be healthy.

Does the school benefit?

I don't see how a school can be in a good place, if the teachers and the students are suffering.

When you look at it like that, I don't see why there wouldn't be a divorce between the school and this manager. But on the other hand, the geniuses who work in head office aren't exactly proactive, and I have my doubts that this guy's going to quit so...

If feels like a situation that can't keep going, but that I don't see coming to an end. But something's got to give. And I'm reluctant to leave this job in haste, because for the first two-plus years that I worked here, this was a great job.

There were frustrations, sure. It wasn't perfect. But in a sense it was a bastion of teaching in Bangkok's oversaturated TEFL market.

And it sucks that thanks to just one person, it's now no better than any other shitty TEFL job that I could pick-up in this city. But it also means that it's only one dismissal or resignation away from being a good job again and... well wouldn't I feel a fool to quit next term, only to find-out this manager packed his bags in my absence?

What I sort of envision for the future, is that I'll take my usual term off, then come back to Bangkok, and sign a shorter extension on my condo lease (likely six months). This'll give a little more time for things to play-out.

And those extra six months would get me through to my next annual bonus, and at the very least, those six months are when our student numbers are traditionally very low so... how much can he fuck those terms up?

I shouldn't be too presumptive, he'll probably find a way. But if I can... if I can make it through next term, then things should, in theory, be better afterwards.

That being said, I will still be clearing out my locker in two days, on the last day of this term.

Just in case. Just in case I don't find myself coming back.

I'm now only three days away from my flight to Chiang Mai, and hopefully this much needed break from Bangkok, albeit a short one (four nights), will be enough to clear my head and give me the perspective to make it through next term.

I booked my flights a few weeks ago now, but it was only last week that I got around to finding somewhere to stay.

I was struggling to decide whether I should stay in a hostel, and actually be able to meet people, or to stay in a hotel and have some privacy. And then as I was sitting on the toilet, I suddenly had this epiphany:

Why not try airbnb?

I've never used it before. I think I've been put-off by the big signs all over my condo saying that short-term stays are illegal, which I kind of understand.

The actual residents of this building don't want to be staying in a holiday resort.

But then I started looking at airbnb in Chiang Mai and... fuck, I can get an entire apartment to myself, including a gym and swimming pool, for the same price I'd pay for a shitty flee-ridden hotel room. Why haven't I used airbnb before?

In the end I opted for a room with a private entrance above someone's house. From what I can tell, that's what it seems to be anyway.

They look like they operate the property as more or less a resort anyway. And I was mostly attracted with it being a couple of miles outside the city centre, in amongst some greenery, with a private terrace with a wooden sun-lounger, so I could relax while actually being surrounded by a bit of nature.

We'll see how it pans-out, but I thought I'd give airbnb a shot. And I'm actually really looking forward to it. Although like I said in the last blog, I could probably spend four nights in prison and be thankful for the change in scenery, so it's going to take something spectacular for this holiday not to go well.

And I'm hopeful that it'll give me the perspective to make it through next term without leaving my job.

But why do I like Chiang Mai so much? Why, when I take vacations in Thailand, do I gravitate there?

If you remember when I first went there in 2011, I hated it.

I was backpacking and wanted to see some authentic Thailand, and instead got to Chiang Mai to find tourists outnumbering Thais, and everything being in English. And when you're trying to experience different cultures, that's not really ideal.

When you live in Thailand already though, it's actually kind of nice. And there are so many vegetarian restaurants in the city centre, it's the one place I don't really have to worry about what I'm going to eat.

"But you just booked an airbnb miles outside of the city centre."

Astute observation, and when I booked it my worst-case scenario was that there's a Thailand-wide food delivery app, and if I was starving one evening, I could get Chiang Mai's wealth of vegetarian food delivered to me.

As things have panned-out though, I'm actually trying something a little different.

I don't have cable TV, and I don't have a Netflix subscription. The reason for that is the only time I ever watch TV, is when I'm eating.

I like to have something to look at while I eat, but the rest of my free time is taken-up with other things.

If I'm too tired to do my course, and I really have nothing else going on, then I'll sit there with my PS4. So I don't spend much time watching TV, and what little I do spend is more than satisfied with podcasts on YouTube.

So why pay for cable or Netflix?

I have a few podcasts that I listen to, most of which are somehow MMA-related. And because they're interviews or conversations with professional athletes or people somehow related to them, then a lot of their lifestyle traits get thrown-in too.

It's probably how I get introduced to a lot of the ideas of how I should be exercising or eating.

I hear something. Then I hear it again. Then maybe again from someone else. And finally my interest is piqued enough that I start looking into it on my own.

And I was watching a Joe Rogan podcast with Georges St-Pierre (GSP) who, for people who don't follow MMA, is arguably the greatest fighter in the history of the sport.

Anyone reading this blog probably won't care too much about that, but for me he's someone who's light-years ahead of what I could ever be athletically, so when he started talking about how much time-restricted eating had improved his health... I took note.

This wasn't the first time I'd heard about it. It's an idea that my ears have come across more and more recently, and this was the final straw in... ok, what the fuck is this time-restricted eating?

I've said for years that you can't look shitty on the outside and expect to be healthy on the inside. Your physique and overall appearance are a reflection of your overall health.

One that can be manipulated, sure, but in the main, if you look like shit, it's because you are.

I look like shit right now.

My body's not firm, and for the exercise I'm doing and the food I'm eating, if all I think I know of the world is true, then I should look a lot better.

And my decline in health, as I said in previous blogs, I attribute in large part to the stress of doing my job since the new manager started. The way I look in the mirror now, is worse than how I looked in the mirror when he started, and I haven't changed much else in my life.

But even before then, even at the most athletic points in my life, running half marathons for fun, I've never really been a toned, in-shape guy. I've always been a bit skinny-fat.

I've given one of my theories as to why that is in the past, blaming it on being overweight as a teenager, ever since reading a book on evolution once, which said how the number of fat cells in your body fluctuates as you're developing, but remains constant once you reach adulthood. So if you reach adulthood while being overweight, then you're going to spend the rest of your life with an increased number of fat cells.

Is that true?

I can't answer that with any authority, but it's always been a convenient excuse as to why I can be so fit, exercising so much, eating so well, yet never being in great shape.

People always get tied to ideas that they believe in though. Obese people will defiantly argue about how they're living a healthy lifestyle. It's almost like religion, in that people will just defend what they've always done, even in the face of mountains of contradicting evidence.

I'm like that too, but I try not to be. I try to be open-minded and think that hey... I'm not in great shape. Maybe I have actually been eating wrong for all these years.

And for what I'd guess is about fifteen years, I've always had the attitude whereby I need to eat regularly.

That's the most mainstream view of nutrition, I think. You have to eat small, regular meals in order to speed-up your metabolism.

I've believed that, and acted upon that for years, and never really questioned it despite never being in good shape.


Because people are idiots. They get tied to ideas and they never let them go.

It's why I had to hear again, and again, and again from people who know way more about nutrition than I do, about time-restricted eating, before I finally decided to look into it myself.

And if you read this blog, then you know that I like to compare almost everything to my evolution. Every lifestyle choice I make, I like to consider in the back of my mind, 'is this something that my body evolved to do or to deal with?'

And as was pointed-out on one of these podcasts, eating regularly throughout the day is not a natural thing. Hunter-gatherers wouldn't do that. They'd have occasional big meals, with long periods of abstinence in between and... well it's been a long time since I did an experiment on myself.

I never bother looking into these things too deeply, because I don't have the knowledge to really understand what's going on.

People talk about hormones. I know that hormones get released into the body and cause different effects but... what is a hormone? I don't really know.

They'll talk about metabolic enzymes getting activated and... the fuck is an enzyme? I know I've got a load in my body and they... do things, but I don't know more than that, so when someone starts talking about enzymes I just kind of nod along like I know what they are.

There's only so much you can learn from reading and hearing about things. Especially because the people that you're hearing from far outweigh you in their knowledge, so can just confuse you into believing what they're saying.

For me the only way to know something for sure is to try it on myself, and just see how I feel.

Last time I did an experiment on myself was when I did that technology detox more than a year ago, where I cut-out most technology, including clocks and lights, my logic being that as a human, I should wake and sleep with sunlight and... I felt fucking terrible. But I know that now.

Reading a hundred different articles wouldn't have gleaned the knowledge I got by trying it on myself and...

Time-restricted eating is, and let me completely butcher this by demonstrating my lack of knowledge of the human body, is basically that human beings evolved to eat within a roughly eight to ten-hour window.

Our bodies get activated when we first eat during the day, and then they shut-down again eight to ten hours later, at which point extra calories consumed aren't digested so well, and they make you fat or something.

And the two states that your body can be in are a fed state, and a fast state. The fed state is the three to five hours after eating, while you still have food in your stomach. And the fast state is the rest of the time. And during the fed state, your insulin levels are higher. And insulin is a hormone. What is a hormone?

I don't fucking know, something that floats around in your body or something. But high insulin levels lead to weight-gain or... fat-gain, or something like that. If you have low insulin levels then your body uses your fat stores for energy, and so if you're eating continually thought out the day, your insulin levels are ever-high, so you don't burn fat very efficiently.

Basically what I'm trying to say, is I don't have a fucking clue why this is supposed to be beneficial. But I've heard enough people, far more intelligent than I am, telling me that it's beneficial that I'm willing to give it a go on myself.

Based on how I look in the mirror, I shouldn't be so arrogant to assume that I know how to live healthily. I quite clearly don't. So let's try listening to someone else for a change.

My plan was to wait until I got to Chiang Mai to start this, because being in a new place away from my usual routine, two or three miles away from the cluster of Chiang Mai's vegetarian restaurants, seemed like a good time.

But then I kind of accidentally started it yesterday.

And basically what I'm trying to do, is only eat within an eight-hour window each day.

That number is flexible to begin with, depending on how I feel, but what I've been doing for years, is having a fruit smoothie as soon as I wake-up. This term that's typically been around 8am.

And then I won't have dinner until often as late as 11:30pm.

So that means that I'm eating within a fifteen and a half hour window each day.

What I want to do is get that window down to eight hours, meaning that there'll be an average of sixteen hours between the last meal of one day, and the first meal of the next.

Apparently, according to the people on the Internet, that's a healthier way of living.

And starting on a whim yesterday, I didn't really have time to plan this in advance. I'd already had my usual morning fruit smoothie at around 8am, then I had work, then I had lunch at about 2:30pm. Then by the time I decided to start trying this, my eight-hour window had already closed.

Fuck, I guess I'm done eating for the day then.

Without my usual dinner before bed, I went to bed hungry, but I slept really well. And still hungry this morning, I woke-up like a bat out of Hell.

I liked the GSP quote "Would you rather be a lion that has a full belly, or a hungry lion?"

The problem with being in a constantly fed state, as I normally am, is that I'm never hungry. And I suddenly realised this morning that... damn I'm more productive when I'm hungry.

I guess it makes sense.

Why does a fed caveman need energy?

He has calories in his belly, so his best practice is to preserve them by being lethargic.

The hungry caveman is the one that needs to find food. And I had cleaned my entire apartment before 11am this morning.

I didn't eat my first food until about 11:30am, because to have time for a meal after going to the gym later, I didn't want to start my eight-hour feeding window until later in the day. So on this first day, from yesterday to today, I went almost twenty-one hours without food.

I can't remember the last time I went twenty-one hours without food, but it's been years. We're very spoiled in today's world.

Like I said though, I felt better. More energetic. And also drinking a lot more water.

My relationship with water, is that I have these three 1.5 litre bottles that I fill-up at the beginning of everyday. And my rule is that I consume them, as pure water, before I go to bed that night. No matter what.

I also drink smoothies and green tea. I also drink water at work, and use water to cook with. But that's all extra. I'll always drink these three bottles of water, as water, before going to bed that night.

I've been doing it for a couple of years, and the only days I haven't been successful, were the first couple after I sprained my ankle, because going to the toilet was so fucking painful that I intentionally dehydrated myself.

With that exception, when I've been in Bangkok I've kept to this rule no matter what.

Even on days I'd work from the early morning and not get home until after 10pm. I'd chug one of these bottles as soon as I got through the door. Then I'd make dinner, and chug another half before eating, the other half afterwards. Then I'd wait maybe thirty minutes, and chug the last bottle before bed.

It sucked, but I'd always get it done, no excuses, to make sure that I was drinking enough water.

The first thing I noticed today, apart from how much more energy I had, was I was also craving and drinking a lot more water.

I'm not sure if it was to replace the missing food or there was some other reason, but drinking water today has been far less of a chore.

And then once I did start eating, I had my usual fruit smoothie.

Still hungry, so less than an hour later, I made lunch. Pesto pasta with white beans.

Still hungry.

I want to stress that this is by no means a diet. I have no intention of eating fewer calories. I plan on eating the same or more calories as normal, it's just going to be over a shorter time-frame throughout my day, and I'm already noticing that no matter how much I'm eating, I'm still hungry.

That's ok though. Being a hungry lion isn't a bad thing. It's why I was able to clean my entire apartment before 11am this morning, and probably why I'm writing this blog.

I'm not sure how it's going to pan-out long-term. I'd just heard so many people advocating eating this way that... well fuck it, I may as well find-out for myself.

The real victory, in all honesty, is that it's given me something to think about, other than how much I hate my job.

It's the first time in a long time that I've been able to focus on something else. It's been a nice distraction from reality, and that in itself is a victory. We'll see how it goes long-term though.

I have no time-frame of how long I'm going to keep this up for.

If I feel good, maybe forever. If I feel bad, then maybe only a few days.

I went to the gym a few paragraphs ago, and although it started well, my endurance wasn't what it usually is.

Probably to be expected, because your body's going to take time to adjust to anything, so a bit of a mixed start to this experiment. But with anything worth doing there's always going to be some kind of risk.

You want to ask a girl on a date, it's a risk. There's a risk of rejection, there's a risk of embarrassment. But if you don't take the risk, you might spend the rest of your life alone.

If you join a gym it's a risk.

Maybe you'll hate it, maybe you'll never exercise. Yet you're stuck paying a monthly fee for a year or longer. But it could also pay-off in improved health, longevity, and quality of life.

And leaving one job for another, and in my case potentially moving to another country just to do so, it's a risk.

It's a risk that you might find yourself in a job worse than the one that you're in now. It's a risk that you might find yourself somewhere that you hate.

The guy that I mentioned earlier who's leaving at the end of this term, took that risk and he lost.

But for anything worth doing in life, it has to be a risk. And where I've found myself, and this didn't used to be the case, is that I'm no longer really willing to take any risk.

How did that happen? How did I get this way? I didn't used to be like this.

Maybe it's simply that with maturity, a person yearns for greater security. But why haven't I left this job already?

It's a shit job nowadays. Since my new boss started, I pretty much hate my life. Yet for some reason, the appeal of loathing an existence that I know, is greater than risking one that I don't.

But I'm in a position now, where if I don't risk something, then this might be the rest of my life. And would this be a life that I could look back on happily? Staying in a job that I hate?

There's not even any doubt in that question. It's a guaranteed game of regret, yet for some reason I'm yet to bring myself to do anything about it.

In a sense I'm paralysed by the fear of the unknown. But why?

I didn't used to be.

For so long when I was travelling, the unknown was what drove me. Between then and now though, something's changed within me.

What it is, I don't know. You could speculate that it's down to the comfort of living in the same place for so long, to no longer drinking alcohol, to the maturity that simply comes with ageing, or to many, many other things.

Whatever the reason though, it's crippling my happiness in the sense of staying indefinitely in a situation I'm unhappy with, when that alone should be motivation enough to change things.

If you're unhappy already, then what do you have to lose by trying something else? What? You're going to be unhappy then too?

If anything I should be thankful. I'm in a risk-free situation. The best thing about being somewhere shitty, is that you have nothing to lose. Yet for some reason I'm still here.

I guess that the first step in solving any problem is realising that there is one. And I guess that as a result, I've started asking myself the question... what am I doing with my life? Where am I going with this?

Right now I'm on a path to likely never get married, never have kids...

And I'm ok with that. I think.

The fear of loneliness does play on my mind, but I think I'm just too independent to ever get tied down.

But some other things. My job and my overall career. The Hell am I doing with this?

Last August I gave myself a year to figure it out, and if I didn't make any progress then I'd go back into education.

That year quickly became two as I realised how long it was going to take me to have an earnest crack at programming.

But now the progress I was making is all but non-existent because of the retard-manager of my school, so I'm not actually making any progress on anything, and I'm working a job I like significantly less than in August, when I told myself I had one year.

And why do I show reluctance to change that?

I honestly wish I could tell you.

When I really stop and think about it though, I miss who I used to be. I miss not giving a fuck.

I've said for years that every person looks back at who they were five years ago and cringes.

No matter how old you are, you look five years into the past and think... ooh, that was kind of embarrassing. I can't believe I used to think like that. Or act like that.

For me though, this is a rare occasion where I wish I could go back and grab a piece of me from the past.

You need to take risk if you're going to progress in life. You need to be uncomfortable to find-out what you're capable of.

To quote Aratak from Horizon Zero:

"Only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life."

That'll mean nothing to almost anyone in the world except me. Even people that have completed this game. I was just playing it last night, and thought it was quite profound.

And I'm not really looking to be in a struggle against death, but you get what I mean. There has to be risk, and fear, and discomfort for anything to be worth doing.

My boss is a tard, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.

I could look at it as change is being forced into my life. I am too comfortable here. I don't really face adversity, or discomfort, or challenge in my day. I don't ever really achieve anything, I just do the same thing, day-in, day-out, over and over again and...

Well now I have the perfect excuse to get out.

That was a hard sell when it would've been highly-likely that my next job would be worse than this one. But now that's no longer the case, what do I have to lose?

It's a weird thing when you think about it. People strive all their life to find comfort and security. People want to climb a career ladder, and get a better salary so that they're safe and comfortable in the future. Yet they almost fail to realise that the journey to get there, is what's giving them purpose. And as soon as they actually reach what they're striving for, and they no longer have risk, or uncertainty, or discomfort in their life, that their life no longer has any meaning. They are merely existing. Like I am now.

To me, these things I talk about, they're a big deal. They play on my mind way more than is healthy. But really, does it mean anything?

In the full version of the GSP podcast, he was talking about how to calm his nerves before a fight, he would go out driving and look at people. And he'd see an old woman crossing the road, and think "she doesn't care if I win or lose." Then he'd see someone else, and someone else, and realise that his impact on the world is so insignificant, that he really needn't worry.

And this guy's fighting for a world title and can think like that. So how insignificant am I?

I put all of this weight into these decisions like they really matter, I put all of this pressure on myself, when really, it doesn't mean a fucking thing.

Another thing I was thinking about, influenced somewhat by these podcasts, is how by not drinking for almost three and a half years now, I've turned alcohol into a big thing. I can't just go out and relax with a beer. I have very little social life because I'm unwilling to drink. Yet in the grand scheme of things, would me drinking a beer once in a while, change anything in the world? Would it even have much of an impact on my life?

Almost certainly not, yet I put all this pressure on myself. I make things like alcohol such a bigger deal than they need to be. I wish I could be more chilled-out and just be like... fuck it, whatever happens, happens.

My impact on the world is so minimal yet, partly I think due to not leaving Bangkok since last August, so only seeing a very, very small world, and very much living within only the confines of my job, my apartment, and a radius of just a couple of miles, things that aren't a big deal, feel like a big deal.

That's why I'm so looking forward to getting away. To realising again, that the world doesn't end walking distance from my apartment. That there is a big, wide world out there. A universe that goes on, possibly forever. And that if I have a beer or not, doesn't mean a fucking thing. And if I leave my job or not, doesn't mean a fucking thing. And if I eat for eight hours or fifteen hours, doesn't mean a fucking thing.

I just put this pressure on myself, without realising how insignificant I really am.

I think we all do really.

People obsess about their appearance. They're willing to get put unconscious and cut-open to improve their appearance.

Does it have any impact on the world if you have a C-cup instead of a B?

As an insight into my personal obsessions, of which I have many, I even switch the wrist on which I wear my watch, based on particular days of the week. And not just aimlessly.

When I first got my Apple Watch; the first watch I've owned since childhood, I wore it on both wrists because I didn't like the feeling of having it on only one.

Having not worn a watch for years, it felt just marginally restricting to have it on, so I alternated wrists to make sure each one had whole days with clear blood flow.

That was back when I still cared about the statistics it collected about me, such as my calories burned and how often I'd been standing.

The one thing that I took from my technology detox last year, was how much those statistics just added stress to my day, and little other benefit, so I stopped being concerned with wearing my watch at every conscious hour of the day, and now only wear it when I go out. So now I wear it so little, it doesn't even matter if I wear it on the same wrist everyday, yet I still change it based on the day.


Well all of my work trousers are black, my work shoes are black, and I have three work shirts that I wear. Two blue, one black.

I'm a very ordinary looking person in that regard. And I've somehow convinced myself that by switching the wrist on which I wear my watch, subconsciously it'll keep my students more interested because they'll think something is different, but they won't be able to put their finger on what.

So Monday, left. Tuesday, left. Wednesday, right. Thursday, right. Friday, left. Saturday, left. Sunday, right.

That's my watch's wrist schedule.

I've somehow convinced myself that in a universe that goes on forever, of which I am one of seven billion human beings, on a planet of fuck knows how many other life forms, in a solar system that's a part of a galaxy that's one of hundreds of billions of others, that the wrist on which I wear my watch each day, is important enough that it's going to have an impact on the world.

I mean what the fuck?

This is why I really need a vacation. I really need to get out of here and realise that this shit doesn't matter. That if I leave my job or not doesn't matter. That if I drink a beer or not doesn't matter.

My world has become so small that I have this pressure, and it adds so much stress and... I've just got to get the fuck out of here.

I guess that was a long-winded way of saying that I'm looking forward to my vacation next week.

It's long overdue and very, very necessary.

Who knows, maybe I'll get back with a bit more perspective and think... wow, my boss is really doing a wonderful job after all.

I don't think that the universe is quite that big, but we'll see.

Just two more days and this fucking term is over.