I think the bit where you run out of money is actually my favourite part of travelling. You sudden have an objective again; just get by. The whole time you are broke you are praying for that bit of cash so that you can just live the good life, but when the good life arrives you wonder what you’re doing, just walking round eating in restaurants, drinking osake in random bars, then going to bed, and repeating the cycle again the next day. You think ‘is this it?’ and you just watch your money flush down the toilet with not much to show for it.
I write this now as I have half quit my job. Well not officially, but I have stopped turning up, and when I do, I just sneak out home after being there for about 3 hours. I imagine next time I turn up I will be in some trouble, possibly even fired, but then again he is pretty desperate and pays me in beans so doesn’t have much to lose keeping me around. The aim now is to turn up and do as little as possible, while maximising my free accommodation that comes with the job. I think soon I will just stop turning up entirely to work, and I will then see how long it takes until someone comes to kick me out of the apartment. I think possibly a week. Then it’s only 16 days left to survive here, and I probably can just about afford that.
I guess the thing is that I become grateful again. It’s no longer a shitty apartment that I share with a Turkish pervert, it’s the free place that I’ve wangled and will savour until I face my inevitable turfing sometime soon.