I broke my flipflop last night. An unmitigated disaster in my life. I’m not even sure I mean that hyperbolically. The number of footwear items in my wardrobe have been reduced by a third.
I mean I still have food, a roof over my head and two pairs of Skechers. But I feel the loss of that flipflop deeply in my soft, squishy core… near to where my heart would be (if I had one).
Also I have the means to buy new flipflops. But maybe I just want to be miserable… and pretend that the world is against me. Why is everything so hard? Why?
I had a meeting with the lawyers yesterday afternoon, to which I dutifully wore my shorts and flipflops (so as to purposefully demonstrate that I am unyoked from the rat-race). They’re helping to wrap up my dads estate.
As an interesting aside, they have a pig. One of the lawyers was telling me their daughter got scammed into a buying a ‘tea-cup’ pig about nine years ago… and this 250kg (550lbs) behemoth is the end result.
I know how much it weighs, because I was rough-housing with the pig on the lawn… and it suddenly dawned on how solid and massively strong this thing really was, and that if it fell on me… well it would be bad. ‘Hey, how much does this pig weigh?’
Anyways, playing with the pig was a lot of fun. The estate stuff less so. Ergh!
At some point yesterday I read one of those… what are they… once you scrolled past your friends updates on Instagram and it starts showing you, um… stuff you might like. My feed is usually all (for some reason I can’t fathom) scantily clad women with nipple stands and incredibly muscled guys doing gym stuff. And then occasionally Elon Musk Memes. I am genuinely mystified as to how my algorithm has gotten so messed up.
In any event. Yesterday there was a FIRE type post about financial freedom. And how financial freedom was… oh, here it is… (I thought I was going to have to type it out from memory)
And I remember thinking… damn… you have just described my hell.
I used to be naïve like this… imagining these prodigious freeform days where you could just… do all this ‘stuff’… and you would be amazingly productive… and everything would just be wonderful.
Seriously, what bullshit.
Freeform and unstructured days have really kicked me in the teeth. I mean their have been other mitigating circumstances as to why I have struggled to the degree I have to transition from a very ordered and (for lack of a better word) structured lifestyle to…. basically a swamp where you get constantly get sucked down into the muck of vacillation and dither where all the days just blur into one. Certainly Covid hasn’t helped.
Still, I have no idea where my time goes anymore. Even though, apparently I have so much of it.
I mean academically at least I understand that this is a problem about purpose and finding a new sense of meaning. And all that… practically its not so easy.
‘Unemployed bum’. I wrote this on a form last week, in the place where they wanted my work contact details. Ha ha.
This might be turning to into a self-indulgent whine where I just feel sorry for myself. There is certainly some dichotomy in play. I am comfortable and have all those things that people imagine makes their life, ‘complete’ and then on the other hand… a real deeply felt sense of listlessness and maddening disquiet that makes me want to burn everything down.
Anyways, clearly I’m an idiot. Although I did catch a nice Triple top on the GBP/USD this morning…
Which… I have actually left in play too long now and has retreated off its lows. It doesn’t feel like a trending sort of day… I should probably just take profit now… a better trader would have called it already. (This is what happens when you multi-task).
C’est la vie.