Lots of things to take pics of this week, with work Christmas parties happening. Unfortunately, I failed to remember to take pics. Then again, it was probably a good thing I didn't take any after seeing some that have been floating around the office. I'm not sure if I'm not in many because I managed to dodge the camera, or if others are saving me from embarrassment.
I've also been healing up all week from a toe infection of sorts in preparation for a 20km day walk. A couple of those pics made it through this week.
In the office, we're starting up our podcast again, but it's turned into a more relaxed chat about whatever might come up rather than a more structured (and stale) program. For me, unstructured-ness is a great thing. I tend to not like it much as I generally go wherever, which is a bit of a blessing and a curse as a writer since I'm forever trying to figure out where I'm going with something, but in the meantime coming up with all sorts of new thoughts.
I also have developed a horrible habit of over formalising things after working as a consultant in so many corporate environments. I try to take things a little less seriously these days, but bad habits are hard to break.
Out on Sydney harbour on Friday on a boat. Nice boat.
I've always wanted to get my boat licence, not just because it'd be fun to float around (probably in a tin can), but because I could be Captain Michael of Sydney! I'd so flaunt that. Excuse me? Michael? That's Captain Michael to you.
One of the people I was talking to on the boat that had their licence said that one of the first things the licence guide tells you is that boats and alcohol don't mix. "I don't know what they're talking about. Boats and alcohol are one of the best combinations known to man!"
I went hiking from around Berowra to Mt Kuringai over the weekend. It's like Cityrail's screw ups manage to follow you around, even when there are no train tracks and only walking tracks.
I did find it slightly amusing that they chained the sign down. You'd have to be pretty dedicated to want to hike back out of the bush carrying that.
We saw a lot of things. I walked over a brown snake, which thankfully decided to slink away and not kill me, a red belly, a few bush turkeys, a random rooster (I really have no idea what the hell it was doing and I when I heard it crow I thought I was going mad), a few goannas, a crapload of spiders, and a kangaroo.
Oh and leeches. Blood sucking bastards. I had one in my shoe.
But worse than leeches are probably ticks. Those suckers just don't let go like leeches do.
I'd been eager to find out how much going to the gym had improved my endurance and overall fitness, if at all. Unfortunately, I've been fighting a toe infection of sorts and had not been going in order to rest it up and let it heal in time for the hike. Going on a walk after practically not doing anything made my body pretty upset.
Upset might be an understatement.
The funny thing is, after about 20 minutes or so, it gives up and just accepts its fate. I think I did a lot better than I would have a year ago.
While hiking is great for fitness, it's not the main reason I do it. I think a lot during these hikes -- when you're walking for so many hours, it's natural to do so. But hiking is a very symbolic thing to me. There's no guarantee that you're going to finish and it's a constant struggle to take the next step. It's the same with life.
Where do you find the motivation to take another step, to make further progress? Sometimes you don't. You just tell yourself to shut up and do it. All the ways you tackle it can be applied to life in general, it's just that you get to live a microcosm of it for perhaps one day.
Did you miss the scenery? Are you walking down the right path? Are you putting in all this effort, only to have to turn around later? Are you falling behind, or getting to far ahead? Who's going to help you if or when you fall down?
It's the greatest analogy to me, and even at the end of it, after it's all done and finished with, if I look back and don't have fond memories or a sense of achievement, it makes me question whether I set the bar high enough.
What do you drink when you finish a walk? Soghurt. Or is it Yoda? It doesn't matter, because it's green time!
Seriously, I have no idea where this is from, but it pretty much tastes like what you might imagine yoghurt would be if it were a soda. Sort of like creaming soda actually. But just, not.
But lastly, as if I wasn't tired enough, a bottle of JW will do the trick. Oddly enough, although I previously stated that only JD gets me depressed, I found myself extremely sooky and woke up the next morning to strange posts on one of my social networks which, admittedly at the time, I remember seemed like a good idea, but was horribly cryptic and fairly pointless.
I often get a laugh out of cryptic messages on Facebook and the like. The sort where people post about how they are having a horrible time or something similar and when someone asks, they say they don't want to talk about it. But in reality, I've realised that many people do the same, putting up little passive-aggressive tantrums to let people know they're upset, but not wanting to discuss it.
You don't even need to be tipsy for that, but I'm guilty nonetheless.
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