Weeknotes 311

Welcome to the shortest day. Hang in there.

More cycling than usual this week (35 km) but only two gym visits. I don’t have a good excuse; I’m just strung out by various obligations and it’s the most I could summon the energy for. I hope January will be quieter so I can get back into the rhythm.

A character in Revelation Space said “revelation space” and everyone clapped. I’m a quarter of the way through.

I can’t escape the fact that I’ve put on a lot of weight over the last few months. It’s upsetting but probably inevitable given the dual misfortunes of how I respond to stress and how stressful work has been. I’m at least determined to not declare bankruptcy on it and try to have a relatively healthy Christmas so I don’t make the January remediation process any harder than necessary.

On Tuesday I had a Christmas-adjacent lunch at Koya with my team. Kinoko atsu-atsu obvs, rendered festive by a cheeky East Side Vegan to go.

On Wednesday I met my brother in Covent Garden for the traditional massive dosa and gift exchange. We skipped the pre-dinner pub this year but made up for it by splitting an impressively spicy onion & chilli uthappam on the side.

On Thursday I finished work for the year and headed straight from the office to the theatre for My Neighbour Totoro.

When I booked it months ago it felt like a risky gambit to commit to doing something at the point of maximum fatigue for the year. In the end it paid off because the show was magical and joyful, a true balm for the soul as I passed through the portal from work to holiday. It’s a charming production and has some incredibly impressive puppets.

I’ve never really understood Totoro but seeing it performed live helped me to appreciate the film a bit better by showing another interpretation of the (to me largely inscrutable) characters and dialogue. Maybe I’ll rewatch it over the festive season.

At the risk of becoming as repetitive as the thing I’m criticising: nothing happened in Pluribus. Next week’s season finale might turn out to be mindblowing but I have my suspicions.

The start of Fallout’s second season was fine but uneventful so I hope it picks up soon. The opening recap contained so much stuff I’d forgotten from the first season that maybe it doesn’t matter what happens as long as someone’s head explodes in every episode. After all, vats what I tune in for.

I’ve started rewatching The Thick of It again. I’m past the Hugh Abbot era and am about to start Spinners and Losers. It’s comforting and dense and I doubt I’ll ever tire of it.

Due to decisions made before I received a surprise tax bill, I’m now the owner of a eufy robot vacuum cleaner, replacing my trusty-yet-knackered Roomba from 2018. In the past I‘ve felt a vague anxiety about hoovers which also mop the floor, for no reason more rational than “is a robot filled with filthy water a good idea?”, but it seems like the market has converged on this as the default product so I got over myself and took the plunge.

I’m impressed so far. The technology’s moved on a lot in seven years so I expect any contemporary robot vacuum would’ve been a massive upgrade with respect to its ability to understand the geometry of my flat and navigate around the many pointless obstacles. I got this one on sale — or so I’d like to believe — and paid a little more for a model with Matter support, so naturally I’m getting a lot of pleasure from seeing it in the Home app and being able to include it in automations.

I’m sort of accustomed to my kitchen floor being reasonably grimy so we’ll see how well I adapt to my new hygienic lifestyle.

Speaking of: I began experiencing Wet Sock while walking the rain-sodden pavements of London, which clued me in that it was time to thank my battered Converses and break out a fresh pair.

They do feel nicer.