No, it’s not a spelling mistake, a typographical error or some sort of Benny Hill styled attempt at a little cheeky humour.
I thought I was a bit depressed, a touch below par or maybe just feeling sorry for myself. I started to question why I was still here, still plodding through each painfully boring and utterly meaningless day. I began to ponder whether anything would ever change, if I would ever realise my dreams or even decide what those dreams where.
Then I thought about the reality.
I have friends who are alone and practically penniless, working in jobs that pay them almost less than it costs them to go to work and watching their colleagues file in and out of the boss’s office as the staff were slowly decimated.
I have good friends who have spent more than half their adult life in ‘caring’ careers being told they are now being ‘economised’ out of a role. They are being offered counselling, new C.V.’s and redundancy packages that are capped at 12 years despite working more than twice that time. They have been offered relocation at non related jobs in areas that would require selling up and finding new homes, new schools for the kids etc. Negative equity means very little in these cases.
I have a job that doesn’t match any repugnant politician’s wages but it doesn’t require me to sell my children to Satan. I have a nice, warm house full of healthy happy people who enjoy each others company and thankfully tolerate grumpy middle aged men. I work in a shop. If my job doesn’t thrill me, I know I am not cleaning faeces off of elderly relatives who have forgotten their own names or spending two hours in a traffic jam in each direction just to spend ten hours in a windowless room.
So I will quit my self obsessed melancholy and look, as Eric Idle intoned, on the bright side.
I will stop looking for the negatives and seek out the positives, where they may exist.
I will relish the cold and the opportunity to wear winter clothes and travel on tourist free roads for a while.
Most of all, I will value my friends, the ones who won’t let me wallow in self pity, the ones who stay silent for months but ask what’s wrong when I stop talking long enough for them to speak.
And I will smile more.
Even if it does scare children and small animals.