This is the story of how I decided to do nothing. Because I always do everything.
This is the story of how I discovered that Liverpool is the capital of the universe.
This is the story of how I left my Londoner comfort zone (beyond TFL zone 4).
Show must go on, and by show, I mean this beautiful symphonic orchestra that is life.
Do we really hate Mondays or do we hate our job? Or maybe do we feel too pressured into hating mondays AND our jobs? I think I have an idea.
Life is more like a garden of flowers. Only, everybody's the gardener.
This is the story of how I went to Amsterdam.