Month: March 2015

How to save your own life.

This morning I changed into my sight-seeing clothes, and then changed back out of them again. I can’t, I just can’t. I have bigger things on my mind. I am reading business books and trying to come up with as many ideas as I possibly can. The books about businesses that failed are just as interesting as the ones about businesses that succeed, if not more so, because they are more honest.

I’m sorry there aren’t any pretty travel pictures yet but I have to do what is necessary for my own peace of mind. You’ll know I’ve hit on something when I suddenly announce that I went out and saw something interesting.

Wah, even thinking about changing your work is scary and makes you say scary things.

  1. it is 3 am and I am awake even though I got up at 6 and walked 15km in the sun, I should be wiped out.
  2. I just had a long conversation with my brother who I’ve barely spoken to since 2007. He loves his job and assumes this must be true of everyone, it never crossed his mind that there could be any other state of affairs.
  3. I am shocked at the things that came out of my mouth. I said that instead of doing what I actually do I should be heading up an NGO or teaching at a university in Angola.

This scares me. I didn’t know I had any special interest in Angola, I don’t want to go back to working for someone else, I don’t speak Portuguese and I don’t think I can afford to take that kind of drop in income even if I rent out my London flat,

Kids.

Upon returning to the resort, I see that today is the day that the horrid, screaming little children have arrived. They are like the zombie hordes. You can flee your home and escape temporarily to a five star hotel or similar fortress but the security of the building you have fled to is an illusion. There are too many of them. One or two will find an unsealed gap and infiltrate the place and then minutes later there are swarms of them. I am listening to one screeching right now, from 50 feet away. She is in the pool but showing no sign of drowning. Zombies don’t, do they. They are notorious for being able to survive under water. 

While I was out walking this afternoon I passed at least two resorts that are for gay men. Guess where I am staying next time. I adore gay men and wish I was one. They are stylish and have nice bodies, unlike heterosexual men who turn into obese blobs of jelly by the age of 35, which isn’t really that nice to look at when they are parading around in swimming trunks, and they generally have no kids.

15k

i put my trainers on and walked 15km or 9 miles while thinking about business and occasionally stopping to take notes. Now I have sunburn on my back and blisters on my feet so I don’t know where that leaves tomorrow’s exercise plan but we’ll work something out. That’s a few calories used up, anyway, and the thinking time was quite good and will definitely be repeated tomorrow.

I saw quite a lot of people doing jobs that I definitely do not want, like waiting tables and selling knock-off watches, so that focused my attention.

The art of single living.

Early morning philosophical rambling because I have just woken up, on holiday, and I am not that excited about it. Normally, any trip to another country instantly lifts my spirits.

The life I have is the life I built for myself. This is what I wanted. I like being single more than I liked living with someone or being married. I don’t complacently rely on someone else to look after me and in the process drag me down or hold me back. I’m not answerable to anyone else at work. I don’t have a boss, only partners and business associates. Nobody tells me what I should do with my time or how I should make my money and I can’t imagine going back to having a job, being stressed all the time and showing up at an office because someone else said I had to. I have more or less achieved perfect freedom. I should be the happiest person alive. But I’m not, really. 

– Work. I am not that happy with the current state of the industry I work in and it is not going to go back to the way it was. I could move into doing something else, which is more risky. Or I could come up with some new products and services, which is partly what I want to do while I am here. If I do this, it needs to be something I can passionately believe in, otherwise (a) I can’t sell it and (b) I will be bored in two minutes. I have the freedom to do what I want. If I am not 100% satisfied with my career then it is up to me to change it. It is my responsibility. It’s not like I have to do clerical work like when I was young, for want of any other options. I think I am going to set myself a target on this holiday of coming up with 6 new business ideas. 3 things that I can implement within my industry right away, to keep paying the bills, and 3 new ventures that could be in any field.

– Love. The Honcho is also not going to go back to the way he was. We really are squeezing the last drops of value out of this relationship now. Yes, he excites me, immensely, after 3 or 4 years that’s quite an achievement, but, tragically, he’s not that excited about me any more and I am clinging to the past which is not good for my morale. Also I think I’ve used him as a distraction for a long time, when I was bored with other aspects of my life, instead of changing them. I can’t help noticing that last time I went on holiday, to Jordan in 2013 (am not counting Corfu because all I did was throw up for 3 days), I was discontented with the Honcho then and feeling abandoned and here we are 2 years later and we are no further forward.

For a couple of years I have been living on the past and now the past is getting a bit threadbare and going on holiday isn’t fixing it.

This is my responsibility. I am very lucky. I am well educated and entrepreneurial. I can attract partners. I’m energetic (enough) and still relatively young, which is good, as I don’t have a retirement plan.

It is time for change and that means making an effort. As much as I sometimes wish I worked on a supermarket checkout and had a more reliable sex life. I didn’t want reliable, I wanted exciting. Now it’s up to me to provide it. What I really cannot afford to do, in a very literal sense, because the money will run out, is sit around feeling sorry for myself and wishing to go back to the days when the Honcho couldn’t get enough of me and the business community was throwing money at me just for existing.

I need a new business plan and, more than that, a new life plan.

I also need breakfast. More later. I am supposed to do sightseeing today but I might spend some time planning instead. I can do sightseeing when I feel more sure of myself.

My body.

  1. I am trying to get a tan. Back: Inevitable sunburn, despite sunblock. Legs: absolutely no change in colour whatsoever.
  2. Better not swim tomorrow because I need to keep my back covered for a while. So I will have to do a long walk instead. I did swim today, though, so I am getting some exercise.
  3. I am still a fat bastard, I look okay in a swimsuit but I look less attractive naked and that’s not very good. However, my diet is suddenly going great! I went for half board at this hotel, same as I did in Jordan, so my meals are provided for me and I am not consuming any lattes, alcohol, ice cream or snacks. Strictly three small meals a day at set times. I can tell it is going well because I am actually quite hungry a lot of the time. I am quite hungry now but I am going to wait another 90 minutes before dinner, if I eat too early I will just wake up starving tomorrow morning.

Here is last night’s dinner. Pork meatballs. Vegetables. A tiny amount of pasta and half a roll. See? I think that’s quite restrained.  I had it with sparkling water. So much easier to diet when somebody else makes the food. It’s not like I’m going to drink lattes all day, then realise there’s no proper food in the house and eat loads of cake.

I asked the Honcho, will you please tell me what it’s going to take to make you happy, but there isn’t going to be anything I can do, because I would know about it by now. I don’t know why I bother, except that I have skills I learned from him (see The Honcho Method, discussed previously on TLYW), he has more skills that I want, and, relatedly, the bond and sense of attachment that he/we installed in those early months is quite as durable as ever. Is like a tattoo. You can ignore it but you can’t wash it off.

The internet connection at this hotel sucks ass.

 And that’s all today’s Spanish news.

 

Honcho Love

Annoying man. We had such a lovely three week honeymoon period following Valentine’s Day, then he suddenly turns into a silent block of stone and when I eventually become irritable and tell him that he is nowhere near young, handsome or successful enough to pull this shit, he suddenly comes back to life and acts hurt.

I need to fall in love, stat. Unfortunately all the waiters here are even older than I am.