A big part of my life is pretty mundane. Let me tell you about water in my household:
At least twice a day, water needs to be moved. I start by filling a water filter container then wait for the water to flow through. Then I take the bottle of cold water from the fridge to refill our water bottles. Then I refill the empty cold water bottle with filtered water.
Then, there’s also water that needs to be removed. After taking a shower, a floor fan needs to be set up and aimed at the right part of the cubicle so water around the trap and silicone evaporates quickly so we don’t get mold.
Rinse and repeat every single day.
And that’s just the water situation.
The rest of life is similarly mundane and repetitive: We wake, eat, drink, poop, go to work, work, coffee, lunch, coffee, work, work out, come home, eat, shower, go to bed.
I’ve accepted, only in my mid-forties, that a slow and steady rhythm of life is actually a luxury.
The cognitive load required to run my life is really low, and the level of predictability is very high. Life mostly just happens.
This mundane life is the outcome of all the uncertainties, self-doubt, and flux of the twenties and thirties. I wonder now what my fifties will bring. I can’t wait.
keongzai 