What if I don’t feel called to a profession or an occupation? Right now I work 32 hours a week, not even fulltime. And I already have too little time for my interests and aspirations. It’s only been two years since I’ve officially entered the workforce, but I’m already questioning my existence as an adult in this society. 

I used to think I hated routines. They never worked for me. In my living-very-healthy-phase when I still lived with my mom and had no real responsibilities I made a morning routine that I rigorously kept to. Everyday I was exhausted before the day even began.

I used to feel so sad thinking about the state of the world. People chasing more and more money, never being satisfied. Every good initiative slowly turned into a superficial business. Where profit always has to continually grow each year for it to be considered ‘successful’.

I’m in Norwich for the weekend for a gig. Not my gig. An artist named L.A. Salami. I love his music. He is a poet first, as I understand it. And he turns his poems into songs. Beautiful lyricism. 

I recently saw a sketch of two American people working in a supermarket. They had to sell a new brand of salsa and their (white) manager told them to put on an accent. They refused, of course, and tried to sell it by simply asking people to try a sample. After a couple hours, and no interested people, they caved and put on that accent.

Sometimes it feels like I’m living two lives. One during the week, Monday through Thursday. I go to work, do all kinds of organising and planning to live as productively as possible. Every hour is accounted for. 

An entirely different life starts on Fridays.