Journalled on Thursday, 12 February 2026 | Santo Cristo, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: 33 degrees, very hot, sunny, and slightly overcast.

There are two kinds of nothing.

There is the good kind, the nothing you choose: doing nothing, going nowhere, speaking to nobody, not working, perhaps not even eating or drinking. That kind of nothing feels like freedom because you chose it.

Then there is the other kind: the nothing imposed on you. When an unplanned void is forced into your day, nine times out of ten it is not freedom. It is frustration, inconvenience, or something actively working against you.

Today began reasonably well. I made my bed, had coffee, meditated, stretched, exercised, did my wheel, and went down to the pool to swim 30 lengths.

Then I came back upstairs to work and found the day’s collection of nothings waiting for me: no Internet, my sites down, again even with a connection, no gas, and my infernal toothache back in my tooth, mouth, and face. There was no peace, only pain. And, to underline the point, still no gas.

Nothing on the Internet. Nothing working.
Nothing of my site, The Long Gringo.
Nothing from the gas supply.
And, above all, nothing resembling peace.

I went downstairs to speak to the woman who represents the building’s internet company. She listened, logged the problem, and promised a technician that afternoon. I waited. He arrived after his 5 p.m appointment, which was apparently fine by him.

The fault was in the building’s main electronic exchange: someone had changed something or put the wrong cable into the wrong port. How can something so small be so stupidly disruptive?

At least it was not only me. Many people in the condominium had the same problem, so the fault was identified and fixed that day. A small victory, but I was taking victories wherever I could find them.

My site, however, was still down.

I may have foolishly deleted the cache. I asked Alessandro to take a look and, with Carnival approaching, I hope he can sort it out beforehand. I am not panicking, but it is inconvenient and probably the result of my own ignorance in IT matters.

Then there is the gas. Of course, the column of apartments where I live has had the worst of the leak problems. The whole building’s supply was shut off, but our final column has proved more complicated. It may take another ten days to resolve, almost a month after the problem began, and all that time without hot water.

WTF!

The upside, surprisingly, is that cold showers may be healthier, and we are still in the Carioca summer. So, in truth, it is not the end of the world. Nobody is going to die from a cold shower, unless they decide to use an electric hair dryer while standing in it. Apart from that, we should survive.

Peace is something I have learned to appreciate while living in Brazil.

The government often seems permanently at war with something or someone, yet ordinary people keep reaching in the opposite direction. In almost every situation or celebration, the first thing they wish you is peace.

I do not have complete peace of mind at the moment because Julie is there and I am here. Since the beginning of the week, however, I have decided to walk away. I have tried before, and she reeled me back in like a fish, but this time I think it is finally over. I miss her, yet I also feel more at peace, and for that I am grateful.

Pain and peace rarely share the same room. I can endure pain, but not the sleeplessness that comes with it. After several bad nights, the exhaustion was beginning to affect everything.

I had booked an emergency appointment for Saturday to remove the bad tooth. Then I imagined two more nights without proper sleep and asked whether the dentist could bring it forward to tomorrow. Kindly, she did.

I also had to buy medicines before the surgery. The website I ordered them from failed to deliver in time, so I went to a chemist and bought everything again, more money, more stress, less peace.

People say that when something good is coming, when life is about to change or upgrade, you must first suffer a little or pay some price. Right now, I am choosing to believe that is exactly what is happening.

The situation with Julie, the constant trouble with my site, the lack of gas and a proper shower, the Internet failure, and, in its own way, the way Yasmin is with me are all weighing heavily at the moment.

I know these are tests, ordinary parts of life dressed up as personal attacks. I also know that I, you, and anyone else still have the power to decide how we meet them, and whether we pass or fail.

In bed by 9 p.m and only two hours of sleep.