I’m not wise. I’m just tired.

The perks of routine bullshit.

Here are some repeat offender scenarios that make my responses seem wise →
when actually, I’m just tired:

• Tired of people sidling up to me next to the scene of an incident and telling - not asking - me they can help because they’re a doctor. You’re a dentist Steve. Unless you’re gonna over-charge my patient into painfree shock, go eat your homemade banana bread somewhere else and let me work in peace.

• Tired of weak men and entitled women. One blaming the other for their miseries, hijacking the gender debate in a haze of false inferiorities. Motherhood is not martyrdom, Celine, and taking responsibility is not heroic, Mike. Someone always pays the price for your emotional havoc and I sure hope, by some divine intervention, it ain’t the kid.

• Tired of people who over-promise and under-deliver, simply because they are not willing to do the necessary hard graft work. No Peter, you may not produce a sloppy AI pitch deck, charge an extortionate consultancy fee and then blame others for your “hurt feelings” when you get negative feedback. Stop bitching. Just do your job.

• Tired of people who grew up with the privilege of a stable home not just being oblivious that it is an accident of birth, but expecting the same standards from everyone else. No, Melanie, we can’t just drop the lost kid off at the hotel, we don’t know if their parents are drunk, in a marriage-ending fight, or even around. Sometimes we gotta look for the nannies, not the parents.

• Tired of myself. I’m tired of being in my own way. No, you can’t write a feature film script by getting up at 4 am AND work 50 hours of physical labour Hanni. You’re too tired, your writing suffers, and you simply need to make a choice. Nobody gets away with anything, ever. Not even you.

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