dear diary,

August 1 2006. 

I bought a philosophy of mind book a few weeks earlier, and decided that I was going to go through as much as I could during the summer holiday. I had planned to read a whole bunch of philosophy literature and by the third year I would be smart as fuck and PhD level.

I never read beyond that one chapter. I think it was on davidson or something.

July 30 2018

Today I woke up with a throat issue feeling like shit. It's my tonsils. As soon as I realised its my tonsils, I realised that's why I had to pull out of my training session on sunday, it all made sense. I wonder what happened to make my immune system feel unwell.

I got to work late, I felt really shit. As soon as I got in to work, a bunch of shit was happening at once: a guy came in too early; two staff were off sick; we had to re-jig who was doing what; head of graphics had her first day back after a month off. I watched 'Who Is America?' episode 3, it wasn't as impressive. I decided early on (or late as I came in closer to midday) that I wasn't going to work the full day. I was going to do all the necessary things, all the admin, all the micromanaging and paperwork and payments blah blah blah.

I just wanted to get home.

I got home early, I left work early, but not as early as I wanted to. As soon as I got home, I basically went to bed and slept for about 4 hours. I woke up still tired and I realised that my satchel bag was still on my bed, and so was the sainsbury's shopping I bought earlier. I'm glad that I didn't have any fridge food in there.

Also side note: the new 'festival' pringles flavour of salt, vinegar and 'herbs' tastes rank.

I re-oriented myself, had a shower and decided to go back to my desk. I am catching up a little bit on things. I guess I am in some growing respect, a proper adult. So much so that I'm taking on management roles in my job when I'm not on a management track role - ahh typical workplace gripes that normal people talk about.

Tomorrow I'm going to group. Group is going to finish soon. I will probably be shattered as soon as I get home.

"Hey google, how much time left on my timer"

seven minutes and thirty seconds

that's a good amount of time for a procrastination blog post.

I'm not good at saturdays. Saturdays are the days in which I ground myself and re-attach to the real world. Saturday is when I have the sleep debt, saturday is the day before sunday, which is rigorously planned. Saturday is the day when I get up early and think I have lots to do, then don't do it, then do something, then get to what I actually wanted to do, then realise that I didn't really have that much time, and I don't really have that much time.

Incidentally, I have about 300 books in my room that I really need to read. It looks really hoarder-ey.

Lately...I think I'm getting better at scheduling and getting better at being organised in my life.  What really helped was to take a couple of days off.

My food smells burning.

I need to go.

Dear Diary,

Before I did body attack class, which is a staple of my routine for the past 6 years; I took some preworkout powder, which is not part of my routine and is a new thing I have been doing recently. The preworkout is like motor oil or steroids for my brain, it juices me up and makes me feel ready to face the world. It's amazing stuff, so amazing that I feel like it's possibly a wonder drug that could be abused.

After class, I got home, I then thought about how much work I could do once I got home. My brain felt ambitious and body was in overdrive. I decided to do some forward planning and then I found out that a repeating task from a long time ago was still on my google calendar: a job searching task to check out the Young Foundation. The young foundation which had infamous unpaid internships and treated people in an inhumane manner. That young foundation.

No, I don't think I'll need that task on my calendar.

Dear Diary,

I bought new uniqlo trousers. I haven't bought summer clothes in ages. I feel like I have enough clothes for my whole sartorial cycle.

I bought some trousers. I have a perfect pair of grey trousers that are a mix of casual and smart- perfect for this weather. They are also super light. I also have 2 polo shirts in black (best colour for my sweaty self) but that's not enough for a week. So I bought another pair of uniqlo trousers and 2 polo shirts (also black) to get the circulation going.

I'm really into identikit clothes, or anything Sylvester Stallone wears in a movie - he's into practical aesthetics with a tinge of urban tactical. Totally my thing.

Dear Diary,

In life you take the good with the bad.

In the depressive mindset, a single drop of bad pollutes the well.

Real life, sobriety as I call it, is about facing things as they are, not as they should be, or how you want them-- oh fuck me, I was trying not to be sanctimonious.

Look.

Things are good in some respects. I'm in a situation I never thought I'd be in that's good, and now that's my normal, and I take it for granted, but I shouldn't.
Things are okay, my parents are in relatively good health, my family are relatively alright.

Things are...something I'll learn to deal with: I'm in a situation I'd never thought I'd be in, that isn't so good. Now...it's my normal, and I'm separating the catastrophe from what I need to do.

The heatwave really fucks my brain up.

I'm learning that in terms of comfort and going to work 19-21 degrees are the top of comfort to wear a polo shirt, then its all sweat city.

I'm learning that in terms of mental acuity: 27+ degrees makes my head stupid and I struggle

I'm using the drops of my energy and mental focus today to plan the next few days. I'm taking some time off work. I thought I'd go on a mini holiday, instead I've found a bunch of shit to do. I'm also working on Lampe and improving his automation.

Because I don't post on here much anymore, things change more and more each time I post, things change so much that I don't even bother to mention it.

Lately I've been on a programme. A programme with all men, who have shattered or tortured lives. I'm coming to terms with some hard truths, I'm also growing with those men. I learn a lot about them and their lives, their troubles have become mine as I see them develop. But I am not so sure if I am growing myself in the ways that they are.