I'm getting a bit suss on this whole working for a living caper. Too much work, not enough living. Not enough money, even with the work. Don't even need stuff. Still not enough money. Not enough freedom. Feel choked. Walls are too high. Not enough energy. Air is like syrup. No escape. I'm sure rich people have existential crises. Poor buggers.
Consider this a friendly, local pub. Make yourself at home, bring your friends, have a good time! Meet new people, have a laugh, enjoy the ambience, and the Oxford commas.