.SOMETIMES RAW.

My son and I came back from the most amazing trip to Japan! What was one of our main goals besides climbing up Mount Fuji? To find Labubus. I know, this is completely nuts and not even funny anymore. These little creatures are like cocaine, it seems. “Do you want to touch my Labubu? (Sounds weird, I know, but so is this entire Labubu insanity!) I will charge you 20 Euros!” One has to be careful when these little weird creatures are attached to the backpack, so nobody will cut them off and sell them on the black market. I am not kidding. How did we find Labubus when they are sold out everywhere? Even in Japan? When people are lining up for hours in front of Pop Marts all over the world? It is like this phenomenon with Dubai Chocolate. Now, nobody cares, but in the beginning, people killed for a bar of this pistachio shit.

This is a little excerpt of our Labubu hunt in Japan:

It was early before the woman had taken her morning coffee. And without her morning coffee she is usually not even in the mood to talk to people. But the boy wanted one of these dolls no matter what so she gave in and the line at the Pop Mart in Osaka was already long and winding. The people in it had gone days without using a working toilet. Forgoing personal hygiene for the opportunity to purchase this ugly doll would be worth it.

All humankind lived in darkness. A new Labubu would be their light.

Many had already paid their way into a lot of Labubus. Some attached them to their purses like Rihanna. Others wore them loyally on hats. Still others hung them from belt buckle loops like keys to their fading youth.

The woman knew she must obtain this monster doll with bunny ears. She would not be one of the Labubu have-nots. She could not be defeated by the people looking to buy in bulk and resell them on eBay. So she set a series of timers in her bedroom to awaken her at the moment of the next scheduled drop. In case that failed, she constructed an elaborate pulley system. The moment the Pop Mart app sent a notification of a restocked store, it would drop a bucket of ice water on her face. Usually, this was at midnight on Fridays. As good a time as any to drink water.

Across from the Pop Mart, an old man appeared with a cart. He stoically held a sign that read: FOR SALE, LABUBU DOLLS, NEVER OPENED.

The woman considered this temptation to purchase from an unofficial reseller. She knew they were not Labubus, but Lafufus, the street name for fake Labubus. She would not make the mistake of buying one. Nothing could replace the feeling of ripping open a blind bag and finding an expertly sewn plush and vinyl figurine with an official Pop Mart QR code to verify authenticity.

“A Lafufu is like a whore in a bar,” the woman thought. “I’d pay for one, but I would feel weird take her out for all to see.”

The Pop Mart suddenly opened, but the line did not appear to be moving. She worried she was waiting for something that would not come. “Damn these lines,” she muttered before cursing herself for not trying to get a Labubu online somewhere. These things are sold out everywhere. At the ripe old age of forty-four, she did not embrace new technology as easily as she embraced new plush and vinyl status symbols.

The line moved slowly. At last, a few people exited the store. They had boxes in hand that they had ripped open to reveal a black and white creature from the Big Into Energy series. People in line could not believe it. Now was the time to think of what they did not have.

“They got an ID?” the couple in front of her asked. This figure was the rarest specimen of Labubu. There was only a one-in-seventy-two chance of unboxing one. She thought about how superior it would make her feel to stroke its coveted fur. “They don’t give us any choice now,” the couple said. “We must be one of the special edition haves.”

The woman and her son stood in line, mouths wide open and in awe of so much insanity. “We stay right here and watch this madness from afar,” she said.

The couple in front of them did what they had to do because they were mad and plenty brave. They didn’t care if they lost an arm in a fight to get the rare Labubu. A person has two arms and just one shot at a collectable figurine that would seem silly in five weeks. They ran, swinging at the people and snatching it out of their hands like it was a prized mackerel.

Was it luck, or were they cowards? A fight broke out, and the couple lost the Labubus while the woman and her son picked them up and left the scene with their heads held up high.

The couple did not know, and she did not care. They were still fighting and beating each other up.

All she knew was that she could also be tough so early in the morning. Even without her coffee. But now that she had secured her special Labubus, to hell with the coffee. This called for Sushi for Breakfast.

Kinderteller

Having fun at work is an act of rebellion in a world that sees us as “human resources”. Here are some tips that work for me to make my day at work better. Obviously, it is always nice to be far away from work and enjoy a day off but with the right mindset, burnout is avoidable.

Be nice. Smile. Be friendly. Don’t be an arrogant asshole or wise-ass. Don’t be cynical (I get it, it feels good sometimes but it will make you sad and miserable) and don’t look down on people who clean the toilets for you, bring you food, heat or cold.

Say “Happy Monday/ Tuesday/ Wednesday/ Thursday” instead of just Happy Friday. Are you alive? It’s a happy day.

Send a love bubble to a colleague. These are little DMs where you say something you appreciate about them. Like, “You made our team look so good in that last meeting. You’re the best. Thank you. I really appreciate the work you have done etc.”

Be creative. Rearrange the furniture in your office so it feels more comfortable if you can. Get candies, a coffee machine and such things if you share an office. Start Pizza-Tuesdays.

Don’t stress out over nothing. Usually, nothing is eaten as hotly as it is cooked. Wait, relax, and let time pass.

Listen to music when you can. On your break, watch something nice or read a book.

Give your best. Always. Don’t slack. Don’t look sloppy.

Have a 10-minute workday. Pretend you only have 10 minutes to work today. Pick what you’ll do. It’s likely your highest leverage activity, and/or the thing only you on the team could do given your expertise/position. Don’t do anything else until you finish that thing. Focus on getting this one thing done. Then off to the next.

Arrive early. To everything. The Japanese concept of “yutori” means “arrive with enough time, and then look around slowly.” It will give an otherwise harried day a sense of peace. And your best ideas might just meet you there.

Move. Duh. Go get yourself a snack. And while you’re at it, have an “exercise snack” too. 30-seconds of burpees or squats. Or climb some stairs.

Compliment a colleague’s humanity.  Humans like to be seen as humans.

Defend those you love from your overwork. Tempted to take the late meeting or overtime (all the time)? Your partner, your friend, your parent—they can’t decline the meeting, even though they’d love to spend that time with you. As they say, “The only people who will remember you worked late 20 years from now are your kids.” Maybe give it a thought that all we really need is time. Quality time away from work such as time for yourself first and your loved ones. Consider not buying X, Y, and Z (do you really need to buy it?) so you don’t have to slave for that Overtime.

Decide that your days and time off matter. 

Eat something healthy (at work). Smoothie day at work is good too. Fruit, veggies, you name it. Watch out for yourself. Don’t eat vending machine food and unhealthy garbage.

Fill your figurative ice trays. Do one thing today that will make future-you happy. Help someone. Help yourself. Tidy your desk etc.

Make your work friend’s task disappear. You know, like in those political thrillers when a fixer says, “Consider it handled.” Wouldn’t you love it if someone did this for you? Get out of your way to help a colleague in need.

Make today’s success metric “minutes laughing.” Show your team the funny video you saw. Do a 15-minute “what’s the most hilarious solution to our problem” brainstorm. Note: this is not a bad metric for life either. 

Talk like a human. Forget the jargon and swear a little. Use the words “shit and fuck” sometimes even though your middle school English teacher feels it in their soul like a voodoo doll. And shoutout others when they have really good ideas, regardless of whether the idea included the words “Mandatory Online Training.”

Remember, when you wish away the workweek, you wish away your life. You can learn to enjoy even the bad days if you thin-slice your joy. You don’t need to love every minute, but you must love at least one. If all else fails, get yourself a fucking croissant. 

Because we deserve to love our days. And remember: Everyone is dealing with bullshit. Don’t judge people and still be nice.

Even Monday-Friday.

painting by Shannon Lucy

So, my son is into all kind of computer games. I told him the other day that I would love to spend more quality time with him. He responded that he would show me one of his computer games and that I will totally love it. “It is not complicated at all, mom,” he said and explained all the necessary moves to me. This way, we do spend time together, I thought. Below is just a short transcript on how this all went. Enjoy!

Stop yelling at me. I don’t know why I’m plowing into this corner either, but the harder I push this toggle-pusher thingy, the harder it pushes back. Also: why are there four screens? It’s hard for me to tell what I’m looking at.

Oh, that’s all of us? That’s so sweet. It makes me so happy to see us all together like that. We really ought to grab a picture for Grandma and Grandpa before we—oh no, what just happened?

Am I—floating right now? Why am I floating?

I died?

How do I un-die?

I think I remember asking you to stop yelling at me. Do we make good choices when we yell? We do not. I think someone’s going to see a precipitous decline in their screen time allowance if we can’t work on our tone.

Oh, thank you for un-dying me. Now let me figure out how to—oh, hey, movement! I’m moving! I’m—

Jumping. I am shooting. Try to shoot this apple from my head, go on. It is fine. Just aim!

Okay, you don’t want to shoot me. So I’m still in this corner, but at least I’m seeing a different part of it. A higher part. Repeatedly. But look, I just landed on two of those goblins. And these laser beams—wow! They just shoot right out of my eyes, I guess?

Sorry, I see that I took out one of those little heart thingies above your head…

Your LIFE? Oh, let’s not be melodramatic. I have a feeling you may know someone who labored for thirty-eight hours to give YOU life.

Yes, I see you. I SEE you, I said. You act like running down this wall is pretty easy for someone who’s never managed to put dirty socks into a hamper.

Besides, I’m obviously dealing with a higher center of gravity than you are. No wonder I’m not more nimble—couldn’t they give me a cardigan or something to cover these enormous breasts? Or somewhere to put this sword? I feel like I might accidentally slice one of these suckers right off.

Oh, don’t sound so scandalized. Breasts are a perfectly normal thing to talk about. I have two of my own, for goodness sake. If anything, they were more yours than mine for the first year or so after you were born…

Excuse me? Did you just tell me to stop talking about my breasts? Did you say “tits” just now? To your mother? There are appropriate words and there are inappropriate words, and I think you know what kind you just used.

I’m going to walk back into this stone corner until you apologize.

Thank you. I forgive you, of course. That’s what mothers do. Over and over and over again.

Isn’t this fun? I’m so glad you talked me into this—this game is loads better than UNO. And speaking of loads, guess what? In between loads of laundry—I folded your underwear, by the way, it’s on your bed—I’ve been watching a few of those TockTock things online so I can be a better video game teammate, because that’s what families do: we work together.

Now, let me show you this cool move I learned to get rid of those nasty goblins. See?

That’s his SPINE!

And look, if I do this combination here, I can crochet it into a tea cozy. I bet you didn’t even know THAT was an option, did you? If you’d stop and use your words and count to ten when you’re angry, you might learn something.

Plus, some other game-moms figured out a “mod” to hack entrails into yarn, so we have a LOT of yarn to work with.

First order of business: I’m making myself a cardigan with a nice, sturdy rib stitch. Because I’ve got to bind these breasts of mine down somehow.

Also, it’s pretty obvious I’m cold. Why are you not playing anymore? Can I click on any body armour? Which one is the best? Joel? Joel? Joel? I cannot see you anymore?

—–Joel left the game