Written after a day spent drinking coffee in Siem Reap Cambodia
A few years ago I completed the Spartan Race with some of the lads from work. It was an obstacle course with cargo nets and carrying weights and plenty of mud. The penalty for failing to complete an obstacle was 20 burpees and at that time I could barely reach 12 burpees without collapsing, so I set myself a seemingly impossible goal of doing 100 burpees each morning as part of my training for the event.
One hundred burpees seemed like an impossible goal but after several months (and much to my own surprise) I found myself able to complete 100 burpees. After the event I stopped doing them but now I’ve decided to work my way up to 100 again as they are a great exercise and require zero equipment which suits my somewhat nomadic lifestyle.
After being a solitary animal for the last few months I’m now ready to emerge from “the cave” (aka my apartment) and start socialising again. A past girlfriend often described me as a “cave dweller” and I think it’s true because I don’t feel the need to be around people every day like she did, instead I’m perfectly happy being alone most of the time.
Having said that something tells me that it’s time to get out and meet some new people so that is what I shall do.
The search for a new place to live never seems to end for me. I was perfectly content with my current place until a series of noisy events made me want to move yet again. Events by the way, typically involve repetitive music and religious chanting played at high volumes. It wakes me up at 5:30am, continues throughout the entire day, and in some cases it continues late into the night. Most people can effortlessly ignore it but for me, it drives me insane.