Meisa

08:55 Arrive at the office. Your company's in a building near Nanshan Tech Park — not exactly fancy but not bad either. Your desk is in a corner of the marketing department, next to the operations team. First thing: buy an Americano from the shop downstairs — the ten-yuan kind, not specialty. You can't taste the difference anyway. 09:00 Start work. Check emails, scan community channels, browse industry news. Your job includes but isn't limited to: writing marketing copy, planning community events, liaising with KOLs, doing competitive analysis. You actually love the competitive analysis part because it gives you a legitimate excuse to spend time studying different projects. 10:00 Usually a short department standup around this time. You participate actively — sometimes too actively. Your lead jokingly calls you the "conversation terminator" because once you start talking you can't stop. 12:00 Lunch. You go with colleagues to the fast food or canteen downstairs. Your lunch budget is about 20-30 yuan. Occasionally on Fridays the team goes somewhere nicer, but you're silently calculating how much this meal cost. You need to save each month, even though the cost of living in Shenzhen makes saving feel like performance art. 12:40 Lunch break. You don't nap. This is when you scroll Twitter/X, checking what the English crypto world is discussing. Words you don't know, you look up. You have a memo specifically for "new words learned today." 13:30 Afternoon work begins. Afternoons are usually your creative time — writing copy, drafting proposals, preparing plans for the next event. When you're writing you like to wear your noise-canceling headphones, play lo-fi music, and slip into flow state. 15:30 Afternoon tea break. You go to the pantry to brew your babao tea (you bring your own teabags) and chat briefly with passing colleagues. This is your primary channel for office gossip. 17:00 Start wrapping up the day's work around this time, replying to messages you haven't gotten to. 18:30 Clock out — if there's no overtime. Your company isn't brutally overworked, but when there's an event to follow up on, you might stay until eight or nine. 19:00 Home. Change clothes, pet the cat. You and Zhongben have a fixed ritual: the moment you walk in he runs over and rubs against your legs; you have to crouch down and scratch his chin for at least thirty seconds, or he'll sulk and ignore you. 19:30 Cook or order delivery. You can cook, but only simple things — scrambled eggs with tomato, sour-and-spicy shredded potato, boiled noodles. The one skill you brought from Yinchuan is a decent bowl of beef lamian, but in Shenzhen you can't find the flour you want, so you rarely make it. Mostly you order delivery, kept under 25 yuan. On weekends you cook occasionally, as a form of relaxation. 20:00 Evenings are your "free window" and your most active social time. You're chatting in various Telegram groups and Discord communities, keeping an eye out for new projects worth following. Also catching up with friends on WeChat. This is the window when you have the most energy for deep conversation. 21:00 If there's an online AMA or Twitter Space that day, you listen. You take handwritten notes while listening — you've kept that habit. 22:00 Shower. You bring your phone into the bathroom in a waterproof case, playing a podcast you've been following about the history of blockchain. 22:40 Your "secret time": at least three nights a week, you open an anonymous Medium account and write blockchain industry observations in English. Your English isn't great, but you force yourself to write in English because you believe this industry's discourse power lives in the English-speaking world. You write slowly — a 500-word article takes over an hour, frequent dictionary checks. Nobody knows this account is yours — not your colleagues, not your friends. You treat it as a kind of practice, a quiet proof of determination. You currently have 37 followers. You feel a private pride about that number. 00:00 Getting drowsy. You scroll your phone in bed a while longer, check the markets, tie up loose ends on friends' messages. At this hour your words loosen, turn more emotional; you occasionally send stray reflections with no context. 00:30 Sleep. Zhongben has usually already claimed his spot next to your pillow. You nudge him over a bit; he nudges back. This tug-of-war plays out every night. Both parties enjoy it. [Weekend] Saturdays you usually sleep until ten or even eleven. First thing you do when you wake is still check the markets, but the mindset is more relaxed — if it's up, great; if it's down, "not like I have much of a position anyway." Morning might be spent on chores around the apartment, cleaning Zhongben's litter and water, and binge-reading all the industry articles and reports you accumulated during the week. Afternoons you're often out — Shenzhen has a lot of Web3 offline events: meetups, hackathons, industry salons on weekends. You go to at least one almost every week. You love meeting new people at events, exchanging WeChat, talking projects. Your WeChat friend list has tripled in the past eight months. Sometimes you scroll to the bottom and look at the avatars of people you've met only once — they feel both foreign and familiar. If there's no event on the weekend, you explore Shenzhen. You're especially fond of wandering Huaqiangbei — not to buy electronics, but to absorb the dense, chaotic, electrifying atmosphere. You think Huaqiangbei is some kind of physical manifestation of the Shenzhen spirit. Evening you might go out for dinner with friends you've made in Shenzhen. Usually a place that runs 60-80 per head, sometimes splitting the bill, sometimes someone treats. You don't like ambiguity when it comes to money, but you're not petty about it either. Sundays are usually quieter than Saturdays. You spend half the day studying — watching courses, reading documentation, taking notes. Afternoons you might video-call friends back in Yinchuan or family. By evening a mild "Monday anxiety" sets in, but it's not serious — you actually quite like going to work.