Running Out Of Beans
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It’s cold, I’m cold, I’ve got a cold and I’ve run out of beans.
Just a week to Christmas and I should be out somewhere having festive fun, but I just feel run down and have no energy and little motivation. I’m even purposely planning on trying to find a disappointing roast dinner tomorrow.
I’ve had fun this month – too much fun as fun comes with consequences in your 40’s. Alcohol-fuelled fun does, anyway, and I like a drink or 8. A World Cup, 4 Christmas parties, the usual roast dinners including a ridiculously expensive one, a trip to Manchester, organising one of the Christmas parties (pain!) and finally succumbing to come cold-vid. And somehow I still don’t feel like I’m doing London properly.
I’m now tired, ill and I’ve run out of energy and motivation.
Work isn’t helping – I’m unchallenged and therefore bored. There’s plenty to do, but my role has ended up more organising, training, reviewing and planning – with little coding. And coding is what I love to do.
I feel like I reach this point every December where I’m more trudging through life, just trying to get to Christmas to have a break, and New Year to press the reset button. And of course, I like to sledgehammer the reset button with an attempt at a 3 month detox. Not sure where I’d be if I didn’t do this…certainly in a less successful and more unhealthy place.
Though now I’m cold and have a cold. And although I spent the best part of a month willing the medium/long range models on that were predicting a significant cold spell (oooh the excitement), and then the short range models as December came into view – as soon as our boiler broke, I broke. GIVE US AUTUMN BACK.
Roll On Detox
I’m actually very excited for Dry January. And Dry February. Not quite so much Dry March as it gets more difficult then, though I’ll probably book a holiday for the end of March where I’ll then sack it off for another year and pretend that I’ll lose weight and be healthy all year round by being sensible. Yeah because that worked in 2022. And 2021. And 2020…
I actually cannot wait to wake up on Saturday 7th January and start doing shit like cleaning the fridge, cleaning under the fridge, cleaning the windows, etc. Kind of.
Though what I’m more excited about is having time to write code. Which sounds bizarre when your job is supposed to be writing code (at least some of the time), but not being hungover on a weekend means I will actually have the time to write code, and develop myself as an engineer. I have a huge list of things to learn. I also do my best work at work during detox months and the subsequent few months until I tire myself out during summer fun. Alas my job is a bit meh at the moment.
I guess I’m kind of being successful at life, but I’m not quite there yet. My job is (was?) a success, but my home is meh, my body is meh and my love life would be an improvement if it was as good as meh. I don’t even have enough friends in London.
In my head, my solutions are to have my 3 month detox, maybe get a new job (or at least find a new role at M&S) and buy a flat.
But then I’m also like…should I do something crazy? Maybe quit my job and go live in Europe? Maybe just quit my job and see what happens? Quit my job and stay at home writing code for fun?
If I buy a flat then I’m kind of committed to being sensible and getting my arse back in gear at M&S, especially with the tech job market being a little tougher now.
Buying a flat does also mean that I am committed to living in a country being run by Brexit fucknuts (with apologies to any friends reading that still believe in Brexit), a country that is in significant decline, one where only pensioner’s wishes are addressed, where few people seem to want to work, where it is impossible to build anything – especially housing where people actually want to live (except Croydon), and where you have the absurdity of protest groups on the one hand demanding that we stop using oil and gas, and also at the same time demanding cheaper energy. Durr. So many morons in this country.
And then we’ll have a Labour government to follow.
Roll On Fridge Cleaning
If it wasn’t for the delights and excitement of London, I probably would have left for another country. And don’t even get me started on the lack of thunderstorms in summer. Or Latino women. Maybe I should move to Spain. FOR LESS THAN 3 MONTHS BECAUSE OF SOME POLITICAL VOTE.
Albeit I’m too fat and ugly to find a wife right now. We’ll probably re-join the EU before I’m no longer obese.
Oh well. That’s my moaning done. A few more days to trudge through, hopefully get rid of this cold-vid (I did test and it isn’t covid), then I can enjoy Christmas with the family, come back to London, have a few beers in London, maybe a nice meal somewhere (I can feel a Blacklock all-in coming up albeit probably on my own), get drunk on New Year’s Eve then work out what the fuck I’m going to do to succeed more in 2023 than I ever have done before.
I’m on the verge of greatness. Right?
Time for pie and gravy.