For those who are new to this website, every Olympics I pretend it's a joke to reflect on my own life since the last one, and not the successes and memes of the actual Olympics.

You would think that having one year less between Olympics would mean one year less of accomplishments and adventures. And you would be right. In that time I've only managed to have four employers and two major injuries. It feels like I've been living in the same house for as long as Patty Mills has been representing the Boomers.

Despite all of this, I still made it to Paris... Last year, on a holiday, where I didn't get any medals but I did get to stare whimsically down the Seine from a spot on the Pont Neuf. And just like that evening, it's now time for me to reflect on the shit that's constantly flowing by every time it rains. (Metaphorically).

Life is not a sprint, it's a marathon, but like the Olympics there's actually both and in the past three years I have not won any sprints but I'm doing okay in the marathon, I think.

My family life is a private paradise. I'm married to my best friend, we communicate well, support each other through everything, have our own independent pastimes but also a shared collection of routines and happies that make life worth living.

I've broadened my technical skills across many disciplines, notably architecture, software development, and understanding generative AI. I've contributed to a lot of projects and organisations, as well as my own side projects.

Despite big and small issues affecting my body, I've recovered from injuries and recovered from setbacks during those recoveries, and fought on a daily basis to keep myself from turning forty without actually dying.

I've managed the finances relatively well, mostly by not buying a new house or a new car or a new computer or a new couch in the past three years, and by cancelling Netflix. I did buy a new camera after 13 years of the Canon 500D and that camera did then motivate me to spend many thousands more on holidays and road trips. I did buy new headphones after 16 years of the HD-515s. I did buy a coffee like five times every week, but I never regretted it once.

Creatively I have done more between Olympics. I wrote 75% of a novel in 2022 and then dropped it. I wrote one short story. I don't really like a lot of my photos. I tried DJing again for a few minutes.

I spent more time on video games this Olympics than I can recall any other. Which is not saying much. I finished three games in three years. That's mostly because my house is super cold in winter and at times my wrist has been too sore to write stories or build side projects.

My goals for the last Olympics were: to be vaccinated, on my way to financial independence, travel overseas, live in a house that isn’t cold in winter, and go camping.

I am vaccinated against Covid, flu, whooping cough and tetanus. Did it stop me from getting Covid? Not every time! But the experience was pretty mild and left me only with a weird metallic taste when I snort my nose in the shower.

Retirement finances seem likely to depend more on interest rates than savvy investments, based on my recent history of unsavvy, yet thankfully small investments.

I did travel overseas, and it was amazing. If I'm creative, I can also claim this as living in a house that wasn't cold during Winter, because that Air BNB I booked in Colmar last June was not chill.

I did not go camping. Well, maybe in Hyrule.

The next Olympics are in the USA and maybe my goal should be to make it back there too. Or at least somewhere cool and not in Australia for a while. I'd also like to configure a private GPT agent to make my life easier. Plus make a DJ Mix to commemorate twenty years - or five Olympics - worth of seasonal mix tapes. And maybe this time I will actually go camping properly, as I bought RDR2 last summer sale. But mainly, my goal is to keep steady on the marathon, with maybe some side-quest sprints for a medal along the way. And no breaking…

In the final week of Spring I was putting the finishing touches into the musical playlist that I intended to embed memories of the past months in. Spring 2023 had been pleasant, as best as I can recall it now. The fading glow of Giunio 23 had carried me through Winter. My work/life balance was correcting itself. My body parts were coming together with enough cohesion that I was even able to complete a mini, late-30s equivalent of Bulktember. A more age appropriate approach. Rehab repetitions prioritised over moving weight. Balancing pain signals with progression. I suffered only moderate lower back pain.

By the end of November, despite a recurrence of my dodgy, left shoulder I was moving well, energised by technology and the future. There was bacon in the Barossa, panini on lunch breaks, lamb roasts in the slow cooker, burgers before basketball games. Lots of coffee. Flowers were blooming, the outdoors was calling, and by mid November my index finger had some blood back in it.

Life was not perfect, but I was enjoying it. It felt like, as spring turned to summer around me that in my life too would bloom into sunshine and blue skies and a semblance of control.

Alas, storm clouds approached, as spring will do. Literally, initially, as late November rain pummelled the house and got into the gym literally hours before we were to set off on a cross country road trip.

December from start to finish was problematic. The road trip that was supposed to be a break was plagued by injury, weather, snakes (actually those were cool) and actual plague. Driving long distances in the rain just to isolate in cheap motel rooms was not fun. It was becoming apparent that my wrist injury was not minor, and the Napoleon movie totally lacked historical accuracy and nuance. In fact, I was craving a return to home life and work routine by the end, knowing fate would choose that moment to at least clear out my sinuses. We returned to a mouldy, ruined gym, more rain, a sad puppy and a whole train of minor inconveniences. The final two work weeks of the year did bring some sense of normality back, and then I got covid and missed out on Christmas. By the time it was 2024 I was exhausted. And I'd felt comfortable enough with where my feelings were to share my Spring playlist that just served to remind me of happier times.

Time never stops though. And through all of this, and the continued wrist pain, insurance drama, back pain, life stress, and shoulder pain it did feel like I've done this all before. It did feel that all I had to do was keep getting through work days, keep doing rehab morning, lunchtime and night, keep going to the beach at the end of hot days, keep making phone calls, keep taking the dog for a walk and mowing the lawn after limbering up that things wouldn't necessarily get better, but they might average out. I listened to the Spring playlist a lot, and of course new music and so I added to it already aware that I was now making a Spring/Summer double album playlist. In some ways it made sense, under the influence of the narrative fallacy: Spring was a rise and fall, summer would be a fall and rise. The perfect sine wave. With gym repairs scheduled and two weddings at the end of February to look forward to it seemed appropriate that by the end of summer I'd feel balanced and I'd have a second collection of songs.

Well, it worked to an extent. My wrist still hurts most days but not that much. I have no idea if the next storm will flood some part of my house. Jobs still cause stress. But I have a Spring/Summer playlist. And I know that I will listen to it for years to come sometimes when things are going bad and sometimes when things are going well and sometimes when some things are bad and other things are good. This is life. I am accepting it. Because I can't change it. Seasons will continue to come one by one and I'll relish posting a mixtape for each one for as long as I can.

Memories of:
Driving down South Road in sunshine. Lifting light weights in the gym. Driving to a bonfire. Books about Mars, and Nipples. Taking coffee breaks in the backyard on WFH mornings. Being in the groove in front of VS Studio while looking out over the Adelaide hills. More hours on my back on the rubber mats on the floor. Long stretches of country roads. FLOWERS BLOOMING. Feeling sad. Being in the groove in front of CS Studio with the air conditioner on and the curtains drawn. The same walks around Croydon. Memories of Paris. Passionfruit. Trying to hold a plank.

This was not how I expected to spend my Christmas break, but 1500 pieces later at least I can say I helped to do something.

On Saturday morning, the first day of my ten day Christmas break, I watched as garbage man emptied a dumpster of recycling into the same compactor as he'd just lifted two dumpsters of trash into. I heard the metal on glass crunching as rinsed containers were pulverised into bags of leftover popcorn and snotty tissues. It felt like a bad omen. I was right.

The Detroit Pistons were my favourite team when I was a kid. I don't recall why. Grant Hill probably, because no other names on the 95-96 roster resonate with me except for Joe Dumars. I had two Pistons hats. One was an old school Snapback cap with a small logo on the side. The other was - from memory - a shiny blue hat surfaced with some soft material and a huge logo. My friend's dad gave it to me as a gift and it was an awesome hat. In fact, the hat may be why I was a Pistons fan.

I feel like a Pistons fan again today. They suffered their 27th consecutive loss, setting a new league record. I too have been taking L after L in December 2023. Today I registered another consecutive positive Covid test, leading to my sixth straight day of cancelled plans. My injuries are making it hard to even sit and do a puzzle. I don't feel sick, but I'm not willing to drink a beer until I get at least one day past a negative test. This is Covid in 2023. I almost, but not quite, feel like I should actually go out and spread this variant because it is so mild. But I won't do that. I will be a good social citizen and hope that someone out there appreciates that they're having a good time this weekend because I made a nice decision. For me, it feels inevitable that I will spend my entire holidays stuck at home until the day I go back to work.

Vanessa, Nash and I walked to McDonalds tonight for a socially distanced soft serve. The machine was not out of order. Maybe that's a sign that things are improving.

Every Monday of 2023 I made a short, coffee related video.

Coffee and my phone, basically the only two ubiquitous aspects of every day of 2023.

The inevitable happened. Not getting Covid, but getting Covid with the precise worst timing such that many enjoyable social, fun activities would need to be avoided.

The summer solstices of 2023 had been going so well for me up until now. In June the day started with breakfast and a walk around the shores of a lake in the Swiss Alps. And then an evening of music and sunshine on the cobblestone streets of a little French town. Today started with a sunny stroll through Prospect, and ended with a socially distanced walk along the sand at the beach.

While missing Christmas due to Covid will suck, I take comfort that at least I am not suffering from anything more serious. Like scurvy, thousands of miles from home on a rotting timber ship in the eighteenth century. Although at least that might have come with more of a sense of adventure.

I have been in a good mood these past two heatwave mornings in January 2023.

Yesterday I walked to the supermarket to buy pitas for pizzas, as well as cheap salad ingredients.

Right after the three gigantic cucumbers I'd selected were bagged at the checkout I felt a sneeze coming on. Even with the sneeze barrier and the checkout girl's facemask I did not feel comfortable sneezing in public in 2023. Every muscle in my face did its part to prevent my diaphragm from propelling. I don't know what expression this suppression left on my melon, but the guarded way she said "have a nice day" after I'd paid made me suspicious that my lips had curled in an mis-interpretable way.

This morning I walked to a different supermarket, a bit further away, to buy beans and corn. On my way I crossed path with a woman walking a pug. The tiny dog was adorned with plastic fairy wings. As I passed I was going to say, "good morning" and perhaps remark, "nice wings" - as I thought that no one would dress their dog like that without hoping for a compliment or comment. But perhaps there was something to my stride because as we drew nearer she stepped off the footpath and onto the road to avoid me. The pug didn't see this coming, nor consent, and the force on its lead sent the tiny creature skywards up and over the gutter - briefly airborne. And I understood then the intention for the wings.

I also may have fortunately prevented a potential cyber security incident this week, so overall a pretty good Friday.

Only a few cars in the line up for a PCR at Adelaide's primary COVID Testing site today.