The house’s 1st floor where I have my work station is freezing in winter so when I couldn’t stand the cold anymore, I would take breaks outside to warm myself up in the sun. I’ve made peace with the sun now. But it’s a careful friendship. I only stay out 5 to 10 minutes max at a time.

I finish at 2 on Fridays and lately, I’ve embraced the opportunities that shortened work-time brings wholeheartedly even when there was a time when I obsessed the low five figures I could get back if I bumped up to a 40-hour week.

I don’t even bother to get bothered by the stack of laundry, the spot in the dining area that’s predictably full of crumbs that I always fanatically vacuum, or the kitchen cabinets that need re-organising.

I want NOT to care for once because I know that the world continues to spin regardless- that’s right, the world continues to spin regardless of what it’s inhabitants do or don’t do.

So for once, I’m not going to think about the novel I’m going to write, the painting I’m going to create, the food I’m going to cook, or the body I’m going to build with push-ups and 4km nightly runs.

I’m just going to fucking relax and not do shit.