arscol

It could be any ordinary Saturday at the beginning of the year. It’s 10:34 PM, and I’m playing my PS5 in the living room with the volume low and a blanket draped over me. I glance around and see shelves filled with books and vinyl records, and nearby, on the dining table, my two black cats resting peacefully. One of them comes to curl up on my lap while I play, and his brother, the shyer one, follows suit a few minutes later.

This morning, I was at the gym sticking to my routine, just like any other day. I’ve never been in better shape, and I still see room for improvement.

Later, I had a reservation at a restaurant with my usual group of friends. The meal dragged on a bit, as expected.

At 31, I live alone and have a job I enjoy, remotely working for a small company with huge potential. In a few months, if nothing changes, I’ll hit three years at this company (a personal record!) and ten years of working nonstop as a developer.

My family is nearby and doing well, just a couple of streets away, a five-minute walk. I didn’t see them today, but I will tomorrow.

I’m putting the controller down for now; this treacherous boss is giving me trouble. Next time I play, I’ll take it down. For now, I’m going to read a bit and get ready for bed.

These are my coordinates. The only ones that matter to me.