Utrecht, The Hague, Rotterdam #3: Hilversum still
Today , I could wake up 30 minutes later. Alarm at 7am. Felt earlier than it did yesterday. My body seems to work that way. Can't even remember my dreams. Maybe I didn't dream. Got too cocky about it yesterday, I reckon. Shower. Go for breakfast.
In anticipation of the substandard lunch on offer, I force myself to have a filling breakfast. One that would make a Brit go: Bosh. White beans, tomato sauce, bacon, union and grilled vegetables. Haboshh, indeed. Off to work.
Only one notable thing today: husband drives with me and colleague to work. Husband, wife, and me. He sat in the back, I sat in the front. Always assert dominance early. He did the same on the way back. Felt unsavoury. He drove the car to come pick us up, got out, sat in the back. Who does that?
We all had dinner together again. He did get a chair at the same table as us. I'm not known for abusing my power. I had steak, again. Bulking season. I've had dinner with them three nights in a row. Why would they want me there thrice? I joked before I was good conversation, but at this point I feel like Socrates. This feeling was enforced by the waiter bringing me an alcohol-free version of the beer I ordered. Attempted poisoning or a sign from above? We'll never know, but I stayed strong and drank. As Belgians we must avoid confrontation.
After a couple of days interacting with the Dutch - however nice they may be - one will inevitably start suffering from fatigue. A concerning fact as I am here for another 7 days. I'll leave it there, as I do realise a big portion of this blog so far has been complaints about my yellow numberplated northern neighbours.
Work today turned out to be boring. A stale, stuffy, soul-sucking, stultifying snoozefest of a day. At least it was only 10 hours long. Days like these are the ones that make me doubt whether this is all for me. Shouldn't there be more? In a way, I already have the answer. I don't want to keep doing this job. I am planning on leaving soon, or so I tell myself. The comfort probably isn't worth it, but it makes it so seductive to stay. It's so easy to stay and get paid. Therein lies the danger.
You can't get too comfortable or it will be the last thing you do. Can't get sucked in or you'll never come out. I am nearing that edge at rapid pace. Tomorrow I'll wake up 60 years old and not know where the time went. When I don't work, I am awake. My thoughts may drift, my mind may meander, but it feels healthy. I remember I have an imagination. When I work my mind melts before the screen's blue light. How easily one slips into the dull and dreary monotony of the 9 to 5, where the only resistance displayed are meaningless complaints while you keep moving along. Like a leaf in a stream sometimes getting briefly caught in a bank. Wait. I'm there. I'm dead. A canary in a golden cage... or a Silver cage maybe. I don't make that much.
Note to self: quit your job when you said you would - November that is. A promise to myself, recorded here for my 1 readers. Goodnight.