No, I Do Not Want to Make the Bed, Actually.

I just don’t see the point of making the bed after I get up. The Sisyphean aspects of the pointless task do not worry me; such is the nature of our miserable human existence.


The Diary of a Touring Holiday

It starts as it always does. Planning has taken months: the whole thing now feels more like an intellectual exercise in exploring distant cities through the magic of the internet than it does a holiday. Then, with a queasy bump, it is upon you. Grab your bags; get to the airport. Now.