Being on the wrong side of the planet means that on days of interesting NBA games I have to pay close attention to avoiding spoilers if I want to watch the game after work without knowing the final score.
Despite the shoddiness of the NBN, NBA spoilers are everywhere in Australia almost instantly. They're on Facebook and Snapchat and in overheard conversations in the kitchenette. They're visible in a particular team's jersey or hat worn by someone walking down Rundle Mall. They're on the TV at the gym and sometimes they're in the horribly-designed NBA App itself when "No Scores" isn't incongruent with "BTW all these particular games went to Overtime"
Today I was trying to make it home to watch the first-ever facing-off of Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook. Westbrook had been killing it ever since Durant left the Thunder to play for Golden State. It promised to be an exciting encounter.
I'd made it through the whole day and I was bustling to the train station so I could put the cricket and NBA on at the same time and drink a glorious beer and then I saw him. A dude in front of me was wearing an OKC Thunder top. I cursed internally. I thought the dream was over.
My momentum carried me closer and I saw it was a Kevin Durant top.
Sometimes Sundays tell me that if I was a full-time author my house would be a lot cleaner.
Life is about learning and the journal continues to store many of my past lessons, explicitly or sometimes in parables.
Last week I accidentally picked up a packet of frozen cranberries when I really meant to buy frozen cherries. I didn't even realise until after I opened the packet. I couldn't return them, so I vowed I would use them for something. I've almost got a degree in eating fruit and cereal by now. I figured if grapes can work for breakfast (which they do quite well), then cranberries could be equally as viable.
Before mixing cranberries through my yogurt and muesli I checked the back of the packet for recipe suggestions. Some kind of milkshake or smoothie idea would give me confidence to add them to my breakfast. What I saw was instructions for a grilled salmon garnish. I was not inspired. I taste-tested one of the defrosted berries and consumed about ten percent of it, before spitting the rest in the sink.
What the hell cranberries? Why do you taste so bad? You might be full of vitamins and sustenance, but it's 2016. Part of me wants them renamed to something that doesn't contain the word "berries", but this is naive. Really this experience has reminded me of the hardships that my hunter-gatherer ancestors must have endured. They must have spent weeks combing the forest for berries that didn't taste like shit. Finding muesli and yogurt in the forest must have also been tough.
Fortunately I had a ripe banana within easy reach, so I didn't stay grumpy for long.
Today marks the fifteen year anniversary of me deciding that my thoughts were worth sharing with the internet.
Something that's crazier: If I keep journalling until February 28, 2019, I'll have been doing it over half my life.
Okay - this update is obviously a little weak, but you can understand why I'm in need of content.