Daylist: 12pm

Hello hello, ciao ciao! Let’s go and sit out on the grass. Bask. Sunshine. Laze about. There’s something disarming about lying on the grass in work clothes. There is a woman sunbathing in a bikini which prompts the question did she bring it specifically to work today knowing she’s catch some rays at lunch? Am I doing everything wrong? Am I the crazy one here? Five more minutes of not needing to decide. Five more minutes of being a non-thing, a shapeless being, free from our job titles. You know we’re not actually our jobs don’t you? Have you ever noticed how much the criss-cross rectangles of office windows look like prisons? We’re just people, man. It’s like, we’re just, I don’t know, things that call ourselves stuff.

You know what I’m obsessed with? Did you watch The Last Dance? Michael Jordan is walking around the stadium, and he’s got no mobile phone, no laptop, no internet, no nothing, he’s just a guy wearing clothes. He’s got his keys and his wallet in his pockets. Isn’t that mad? Just a person. And he’s Michael Jordan! The GOAT! And even so his agency only stretches as far as he can reach. Isn’t that amazing? Like, he just has to talk to people, or do something, or go somewhere. Do you know what I mean? He’s just THERE. No?

My wife says I have a tendency to over-egg and complicatedly articulate things that everyone knows already. Sometimes I find it hard that people don’t just get what’s rumbling around in our heads. I also find it exhausting that you have to couch everything in self-deprecating humour nowadays so people don’t think you’re being pretentious. Also I’m secretly in love with my boss and can’t concentrate when she’s in the room and I think I’m a bad feminist. And I used the word “entropy” wrong in front of her yesterday.

Five more minutes.