Spent a lot of the week marinating (I prefer this term over “ruminating”). I think I’m still adjusting to freedom - so much time gets taken up by the work week that its sudden absence creates a vacuum of sorts. I realise that I’m used to taking work given to me by third parties very seriously, but am suddenly at a loss when it comes to my own goals and projects… guess I’m actually not used to prioritising my own interests and taking myself seriously.
After arriving at that thought this week, I kind of had to sit and stare at the ceiling for a good while to let it sink in. Why am I used to working harder at furthering other people’s interests than my own?
This week I also finally called my childhood online friend (G) who I haven’t spoken to in a long time. One of the funny things about childhood friends is that they provide some kind of reassurance that your childhood existed - somewhere there is a 10-year-old version of me in G’s mind, and there’s also a 10-year-old version of G in my mind. One day you’re 10, quarrelling with some other kid on Facebook, and the next you’re calling each other while unpacking from a move and folding clothes (but in very different parts of the world).
G: [complains about having to lug a portable aircon up the stairs]
Me: Your apartment doesn’t have AC?
G: It was built in the 1860s.
Me: Well, that’s not an excuse. They’ve had over a hundred years to figure that out.