As part of the happiness project I tried to appreciate the little things in life. Since I tend to only appreciate rampant sex and snorting a gram of coke with a total stranger or anything else that’s big enough to give me some dopamine thrill. I wish I was inventing this, but am not.

So the bloody little things I tend not to value:

  • a woman gave me two novels, just like that
  • a woman wanted to make tea for me
  • my students seemed to enjoy their classes today
  • I had a therapy client who seemed relieved after the session
  • I found a faster way to get from one company to the next
  • I didn’t jump out of a window after realizing I had taught four women for sixty minutes with my fly open
  • several people opened up to me today
  • I can walk quite fast
  • I didn’t lose any ID
  • There are no IEDs in Bratislava
  • I don’t know why but using a word like IED gives me a tiny dopamine hit. Do you know what it is?
  • Am gonna have to try and be a lot more normal if I ever want to write a bestseller
  • The previous point wasn’t a good thing
  • My head only started hurting after work
  • I made quite a lot of money today
  • Womanhood was kind to me today
  • I didn’t go hungry today as opposed to millions of people on this planet
  • I almost did what I wanted to do today, but not really
  • I felt a lot of love for humanity today
  • I am going to say something risky: the more I calmly accept and live my appreciation for women the kinder they become, but I still find it very very hard to allow them to do anything for me or to let them give me anything unless I have given so much already that I am sure I have given more.

The sexiest receptionist I know ruined her sex appeal when I spotted she has a huge tattoo on her forearm. She made me extremely nervous every time I saw her, but the tattoo ruined her attractiveness, at least I can pass her now without tripping over my own tongue and needing valium to steady myself.

I am a silly teenager who’ll never do that thing called ‘growing up’.

At least I will be watching Dawson’s Creek when I am 90.

At my age I should be serious, but I feel like am the same guy I was when I was 12, just slightly less obsessed with the state of the world and only a tiny tiny tiny bit better with the other thing that is on my mind apart from humanity’s course of action: women.

The generally accepted diagnosis is that am still a child.