I want to be able to wake up, and have nothing ahead of me, nothing to prepare, nothing to tend to. I want to have a night where I don’t have any work to do, no meetings to attend, no obligations to fulfil.
Every Friday I look at the weekend coming and by thinking about it I already feel tired. Every weekend I look at my schedule for the new week and I get even more tired. Every day, unexpected and new poo comes and…
I wonder how I would manage to survive the next onslaught. I survive, and it’s a mystery, but it’s also tortuous.
It’s always just a bit more to go…
