They say that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. But what if life doesn't give you lemons? What if life just gives you a blank stare, a minor existential crisis, and a series of mildly annoying events that feel like a personal attack from the cosmos?
Welcome to my week. It hasn't been a "disaster" in the cinematic sense—no buildings fell down, and I haven't accidentally joined a cult—but it has been one of those weeks. You know the ones. Where every small mistake feels like a grand indictment of your character, and the general vibe of the universe is just… ugh.
It all started on Monday. Now, I wasn’t even in Brussels on Monday, but the universe found a way to drag me into the chaos regardless. My wife was in the city, ready to head home, when the announcement came: All rail traffic in Brussels halted indefinitely. The culprit? Suspicious packages.
Thankfully, it turned out to be a false alarm, but in the moment, it was a logistical nightmare. Imagine a swarm of office workers suddenly realizing they are stranded in the capital. It was like The Hunger Games, but with more suits and fewer bows. My wife managed to snag a taxi to Leuven with some colleagues. From there, a colleague’s husband acted as a getaway driver to Hasselt, where I finally swooped in to pick her up.
Because her car was stranded at a different station, our Tuesday morning became a military operation. We had to leave an hour earlier than usual so she could make her Brussels meetings. She ended up getting home three hours later than expected on Monday night. By the time we hit the pillows, I was already convinced that the week was out to get us.
In preparation for our youngest’s 14th birthday party tomorrow, I decided to be a proactive, responsible adult. We’re serving hamburgers and fries to a small army, so the deep fryer needed a deep clean.
Pro-tip: If you want to spend two hours questioning your life choices while slowly searing the skin off your fingertips, clean a deep fryer.
I did find a "golden tip" online, though: once empty, fill it with water and a dishwasher tablet, then crank it up to 80 degrees Celsius or 90degrees Celsius. I have to admit, it works like magic on the grease. Unfortunately, the "magic" doesn't extend to protecting my clumsy hands. I am currently typing this with fingers that have been medium-rare at least three times this week.
In the midst of the "blah" feeling, we did manage to make a big decision: we ordered the lighting for the living room and dining room. This was the final piece of the renovation puzzle, and now we just have to wait until mid-June for the actual work to start.
We went with the Philips Hue Perifo rail system. Is it the most budget-friendly option? Absolutely not. Is it sleek, smart, and satisfying for my inner tech-nerd? Absolutely.
We spent a considerable amount of time playing "lighting Tetris" with starter kits. By swapping components between two different kits, we managed to configure a 4-meter rail for the living room (with four spots) and a 2-meter rail for the dining room (with three hanging lamps and a spot).
Between a 20% discount through my wife’s employer and a potential 7% cashback from the bank, we’ve already saved €300, and we might hit €400 in savings if the banking gods are kind. Of course, looking at the total bill for the food and drinks for the party yesterday nearly gave me a heart attack, so I guess the lighting savings are already "reinvested" into beer and burger buns.
Tomorrow is the big day. Like awlays fashionably late for this party (his birthday was a month ago) Thirty people. In our house.
I was debating going into the office in Brussels today or tomorrow, but since it’s exam season, someone needs to be home to ensure the "studying" actually involves books and not just high-level gaming. So, I’m working from home today, but that means tonight is "The Setup." Tables, chairs, decorations—the whole transformation.
I’m currently staring at a supermarket receipt that is long enough to be used as a wallpaper. Feeding 30 people is no joke, and my bank account is currently screaming in a pitch only dogs can hear.
Amidst the chaos of preparing for the party, I’m hoping to catch some of the World Cup qualifiers tonight. I’m keeping an eye on Italy—I’d love to see them secure a ticket.
Living in an old mining community, the local culture is a beautiful melting pot. We have families here who have been part of the community for four generations but still hold onto their roots. If Italy makes it, the neighborhood stays lively. If Turkey qualifies too? Well, then the entire World Cup becomes one giant street party around here. Honestly, we could use that kind of energy after a week like this.
So, that’s where I am. Trying to be a bit nicer to my analysts (who have definitely felt the brunt of my "it's just not my week" mood), correcting my own silly mistakes from the last few days, and preparing for a house full of teenagers and relatives.
If I survive the 30-person invasion tomorrow, I’ll consider the week a success. If not, tell my Hue lights I loved them.
Cheers,
Peter
