I have a lot of negative feelings at the moment.

Getting up late. I feel exhausted. At the same time I feel like I need to get loads done. At the same time I have some weird feeling like I have to get things done in a certain order. FOMO dictates I need to be outside in a pandemic, not around people, well maybe with my mates (they are busy). FOMO dictates I should be at the gym, maybe go on an epic bike ride and see a couple of parks, see the river thames or maybe just long pond in Clapham. FOMO says I should be working on my killer bod. FOMO says I should be cutting and working on my new WW diet with more veggies. Lets be honest I have been eating more veggies. But also eating more crap. That's not how dieting works.

I'm a ball of uneven self resentment. I dont think that's good for me. It's not good for my family. It's not good for the causes I say I work towards.

So here I am. writing therapeutically as I call it. Im at my desk. I often say that if I'm at my desk, just sitting upright, then potential happens. I do believe that. I just don't feel it.

I've got a to do list as long as my arm. Last night I have worked on some admin and clearing of tasks which really has taken some of the work I would have done out of the weekend, but I do have lots to do over the weekend. 

There's some yoghurt that's possibly 2 days out of date. There's that beef roast I wanted to cook. There's my diet. There's the gym I want to go to. There's my 50km a week cycling target. There's weight watchers and myfitnesspal, fitbit and the gym app. Habitica and google keep, APIs and APIs all fucking piled on in the name of productivity but where does it leave me? I'm still at what some people call base camp in life. 

A couple of years ago I went out with a woman who was really nice, I was getting into my contract job and it felt kind of glamorous. at the time I would wear bow ties to work and a wool blazer. I would wear brogues and it felt good. What do I wear now? I was still deciding on pajamas or 'smart trousers to help me think productively'. I went with the former.

I like having this blog. I'd moan if it ever disappeared. I think I've had it for nearly 15 years, 14 definitely. That's a long-ass time for anyone. As Jeremy Irons' Alfred said in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, even you have gotten too old to die young. 

My thoughts are disordered. My mind is disordered. My body feels a mess. I've just got to start somewhere. 

I'm working on pen and paper to work it all out. That helps a bit.

Onwards