“I know,” my apartment building’s maintenance manager may have said (but probably didn’t) late this morning; “Barry staggered in past the security guards at about 3am, blind drunk after Ed’s stag night, so let’s start renovating the apartment directly above him”. The swine.
My head already feels as if it is made from sponge, and there is an army of Thais wielding hammers and drills directly above me – it sounds as if they are here in the room. If I had any fluid left in my body after today’s eleventy-billionth trip to the bathroom, I would be weeping in anguish.
I am seriously considering the possibility that perhaps that last beer was an unwise decision.
Outside this current hell, December has been the month in which everything seems to have come together extremely nicely. I’ve (briefly) visited Laos, which was nice. I’ve received (and accepted) a very exciting job offer, which I should start in January. Oh, and I watched a documentary about a certain football match, and was pleasantly surprised to see more footage of myself and a friend bouncing around in a pub.
Tomorrow I will be enjoying Christmas dinner with my friends here in Bangkok, where temperatures have dropped to a point where I haven’t had to use the air conditioner at all this week. My Mac’s dashboard says it’s 26°C, in fact. Perfect.
It’s been a completely insane year – I was at rock bottom in the UK at the start of it, and here I am in Thailand, moving into its final week idly wondering what else could possibly go right.
Merry mid-winter pagan festival, everybody.
