The other day, I had this idea of how a living space can function as a vessel or reflection of one’s life’s priorities. Living space is like time in one’s life: not easily extendable. If your house is 2000 sqft, it’s up to you to make the most out of every square inch. Akin to space, time is also limited. You can change your lifestyle to make more time to do things you like or live healthier to extend your life, but at the end of the day, a human can only live so long. One can argue that for the 1%, space can be traded with money. I’d think that more space is a diminishing return. You cannot be simultaneously doing multiple things in multiple rooms. Effective use of space is constrained by the number of hours in the day. Space needs to be budgeted and designed like time.

By now many of you likely have received a barrage of GPDR emails, some more humorous and some drier than cardboard. I hope these emails have helped spread awareness of digital privacy. I’m looking forward to reaping some indirect benefits on the sideline as a citizen in a surveillance state, because for most companies, it’s easier to adopt the same set of policy across the globe than a different one for each region. This spill-over effect of the new EU privilege is much welcomed.

Tangentially, the number of data breaches and leaks headlined in the news seems to be on a rise over the past few years—all the more reason to support companies with transparent, respectful, and vigilant data practices. Meanwhile, it’s also always good to be cautious. So the question I asked myself then was twofold; first: why do I need to protect my data? And second: how do I develop a strategy against potential threats to my data?

Names anonymized to protect their identities.

A few months ago, I was taking a walk with Wu and his wife Xian after dinner. The street was unusually calm, probably because most migrant workers had already gone back to their hometowns for the Qingming Festival. Somewhere along the path, we arrived at a city square, where the locals were still carrying on their evening activities. Surrounding us was a cluster of modern architecture. Each building boasted a boldly expressive design and housed some scholarly function. One building, in particular, shined quietly through its transparent glass panels: the Shenzhen Concert Hall.

This toothbrush is “exclusive at the Apple Store.” That alone intrigues me. How exactly does a toothbrush, let alone one from Colgate, whose brand differentiation is almost as strong as Kleenex, make an exclusive debut at a luxury electronics store?

I have this habit of hitting up local Muji stores wherever I go. Sometimes, if lucky, I find interesting products unavailable in the states. Today, as I strolled back to my hotel from an afternoon excursion in Hong Kong, I took the liberty to visit a Muji store. I noticed a place next to the entrance to Muji that had some “tea” characters on the signage. To my pleasant surprise, it was a tea-themed cafe, much similar to the one I visited in Taipei. I took a number and was seated promptly.