I posted this on Facebook a few days ago. But now I come to think of it, maybe it should be here…

Waking up to find Bashir Assad, the ghastly dictator of Syria had been deposed – at least I think he’s been deposed – it took a superhuman effort not to click on a news website and find out.

If I do that, I know I will be lost for an hour or more, looking at opinions, seeing what the pundits surmise will happen next, trying to find out about the leaders of the counter-revolution (although I’m not sure how long a revolution has to survive before a counter-revolution becomes an actual revolution…)

Anyway, I didn’t. After the American election, I swore I was not going to pay any attention to the news anymore. I deleted all my news apps, stopped following sources of news on Facebook, cancelled subscriptions – I became, if you like a hermit, here on my little boat in Colombia.

I was doing what I spent five years advising other people to do when I was supposed to be training them to run a part-time business: “Stop watching television,” I would tell them.

“Start with the news. The news sucks all the optimism out of you. If some princess somewhere gets killed in a car crash, don’t worry. You’ll get to hear about it somehow.”

This time it was Facebook – somebody saying: “I’m not a Syrian refugee anymore. I’m a Syrian!”

Of course, I desperately wanted answers. But on the other hand, I’ve now had a whole month without news and I know I’ll survive.

In fact, since a month is a reasonable milestone for taking stock, I think I can say that life is a whole lot better without the constant drip feed of mayhem and hopelessness. It can’t be good for me to be stressing and worrying over terrible things that are bound to happen and over which I have absolutely no control (I won’t itemise them, it’s too depressing. Anyway, I’m sure you have your own list.)

As for the time it took! Doomscrolling, they call it – a good word: To remain hunched over a screen in an attitude of dejection with a head full of misery…

Instead of which, here’s what I’ve been doing these last four weeks: I’ve been reading twice as many novels as usual, completed a sixth read-through of my own new book (and still found stuff that needed changing). I’ve redoubled my efforts to learn Spanish – to the extent that last night I was actually surprised when the online tutor said we had reached the end of the session. She said I had done really well. They always say that, but this time I believed her…

I have de-scaled the engine, been up the mast (twice), measured the awning (which still doesn’t fit) and repositioned the grey water outlet filter at three o’clock in the morning for reasons too boring to explain.

And that is all in between endless trips to the supermarket to fill the bilges with beer and iced tea ready for two months in the San Blas Islands which are described as “a remote paradise” (meaning they don’t have beer and iced tea.)

These are the important things in life at 38°C and 65% humidity.

So, good luck to the people of Syria and good luck to America, but I’ve got my own life to live – and, as I have a habit of reminding myself, I’m having The Time of My Life.