Of being utterly stuck in Portsmouth and everyone here is fine with it because apparently my life is not worth living, according to the local English.

I am so sick of not being allowed to breathe. Of being trapped in my tiny lab rabbit’s cage, filling my time with watching YouTube videos, reading library books and the perpetual hunt for food. So so so fed up with this.

The lockdowns made it bearable, because the lockdowns were for everyone and made everyone much friendlier, strangely enough.

And it all brought some excitement into my horribly restricted Pompey non-life, plus access to so many online meetings at American top universities.

I even attended a meeting with Hank Greely.

The pandemic made that all possible. Now it’s disappearing again.

How I hate Portsmouth with its ugly over-the-top insularity and misogyny.

Not to mention the rest. Such as the farting, the mooning, the screaming and the egging.

I was supposed to be a full prof now, goddamnit, with my own cutting edge research group. Not listening to grownup babies fake-fart and adult brats bicker. Not abused by people who believe that brains are a form of cancer.

And I have no income left. None. It’s ridiculous.

But at this point, I can still make YouTube videos. So that’s what I do.