Whoever your god/goddess of choice (even if it’s F – the spirit of profanity), it’s worth thanking them every so often for the good of your soul (or innards in my case – apparently gingers don’t have souls). And let other people know what you have to be thankful for too - it put a big smile on my face recently to see a friend revelling in her dream job. In doomy and gloomy times it’s nice to hear about people that are happy with their lot and taking pleasure in the little things, whether it’s that dream job or a sunny Friday (like today! Yay!)
|...come more naturally on a Friday.|
It’s natural want more, what with us being greedy buggers and all (admit it!), it’s completely inevitable to dream of those lottery millions (and, I think you'll find, a very sensible life plan), and it’s admirable to strive for something better, but it’s also worth stopping every so often to appreciate where you are now and what you have (be it a mansion in Lagos and/or working limbs). As Lennon wrote, ‘life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’ (or in my case, lists). Life is also happening while you’re busy lamenting the price of pasties, coveting other people’s shoes/body/tanks of petrol and tutting at the slow person at the head of the queue.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not talking about that brand of saccharine gushing sentiment that turns stomachs. It’s a bit much to take and those that subscribe to it tend towards an over-frequency that crushes any genuine emotion. I know cynical self-depreciation is generally more entertaining and a good moan can be cathartic - as can mourning the weekend …we all know the bittersweet pleasure to be found in cursing Monday morning and all it stands for. But the only people that don’t like the odd bout of positivity are complete mardy-arses and let’s face it; in this world, if you know where your next meal is coming from and you’re not having the arse shot off you, you’re doing pretty well.
If you’re ever feeling a little ‘meh’, focus on life’s little niceties and always remember it could be worse – you could be ginger or *gasp* George Galloway could be your MP… <shudder>.