Apparently I am incapable of moderation, and also I can stretch time?

This does not come as a great surprise. A couple of weeks ago I looked at my growing to-do list, decided to be sensible, and said I’d be scaling back the blog to 2-3 posts per week.

However there’s this maxim that goes: “If you want something done, give it to a busy person” and I’ve realised I might be the human embodiment of it. Because the less I have to do, the less productive I am with any of it. Jobs take me hours, my house is a mess, etc. Give me more, though, and suddenly I’m a productivity machine.  Read more

Weekly Reading List #7: Fasting, Fever, And Not Giving A Fuck

I finally have my brain fully back! It’s been switching on and off over the past year based on the number and strength of pills I’ve been on at any given time. So more like a dimmer switch than a straight on/off affair. However, as of yesterday I am off aaaaallll the meds. Let’s see how this goes.

The most exciting thing about this, of course, is that I can read books again. And not just novels and things that require zero brain power, but real books. Big books. Thick philosophical books. (I know novels can be all those things too, but boy have I missed philosophy.)

Here’s what I read this week.

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The Week I Broke One Of My Resolutions

I usually start the year with resolutions. In the past I was very good at keeping them, then I gradually got worse at it, and for the past couple of years I’ve been kind of hit-and-miss about it. This year I began with only two actual resolutions, both of which I’ve kept, but I also made some promises to myself, which I haven’t. I called these ‘promises’ because I wanted to say I didn’t have many resolutions this year, but really that’s just semantics and they were resolutions all along.

Confused yet? Yeah, so am I. I’m hopped up on a large cocktail of pills and have no idea if this is making sense.

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“How Do You Fit It All In?” Like This.

People have always asked me how I manage to fit all the various things I do into my life. In the past, the answer was that I was a workaholic who could get by on four hours’ sleep a night.

Nowadays, however, I’m in my late twenties, and while that means I’m still young (right? RIGHT?!), it also means I’ve started making those little noises when I get out of chairs or bend to pick something up, and also that going to bed at a reasonable hour instead of stumbling drunkenly through the streets of Dalston at 3am seems like a perfectly good nighttime pursuit.

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Don’t Fucking Call Me Lucky

“You never know, might as well try” pretty much sums up my life philosophy, especially when it comes to work.

A lot of people say things to me like “You’re so lucky to have the job you have!” “You’re so lucky that you found a job when you were young and managed to keep it through the recession.”

Hmm, yeah.

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How I got more done this year than ever before, whilst working fewer hours

Productivity and efficiency: two of my favourite words. When my old philosophy professor used to tell me off for saying “Have a good day!”, I switched to “I hope your day is pleasant and productive!” because to me at the time productive = good.

Efficiency pervades every aspect of my life. From my morning routine to the way I structure my working day, and even when and where I see my friends, I’m constantly seeking ways to make myself run more efficiently like a Borg drone grasping for knowledge.

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