I’m sick of my life. I spend 12 hours, five days a week, at work or in transit between work and home. That’s 60 hours a week I cannot call my own. Even when I do get home in the evenings I’m too tired to really do anything, so that knocks out those few hours between getting home and going to sleep as well. Of course, the mornings are taken up by just getting ready for work... My life is dictated by a workplace, which I suppose is marginally better than “lives dictated by tradition, superstition, false religion” because at least a workplace pays me money.

 

The Plan:

Quit in February next year, having worked here for one full year. Find work in the hotel/hostel industry. Save lots of money. Travel. Travel some more. Possibly work while traveling. Come home, or possibly move to Brisbane or Canada (don’t ask the logic behind those two choices, there may not be any), and start a backpackers hostel and/or cafe and/or bookshop.