Here’s the story of laziness, life, and pointless children.
I’ve never been called a lazy sod before, which is remarkable, because it’s 100% accurate. That said, such words did hurt my feelings a little. If I had walked from the bus station in the city centre to where I work, on the other side of the city centre, it would’ve taken about half an hour and would have, most likely, resulted in a me more dead than alive. Whilst I do acknowledge that my bacon only diet isn’t the best diet in the world, I can’t imagine a better epitaph on my gravestone. ‘Here lies Ally. Died of a bacon overdose…’
So I did the logical thing and decided to get a bus, only a 10 minute hop down the road. And as I was getting off the bus, I heard an old lady behind me say, “What a lazy sod!” I mean, sure, she doesn’t know anything about my poor health or the fact that I haven’t been very well this week, or the fact I’d spent the best part of an hour wandering around looking for chocolate, but come on, that’s a bit harsh. You’re saying it as if it’s a bad thing, and I must say, I’m immensely proud of my laziness. As I hurtle toward 27, I am getting rather good at laziness. Well, I say hurtle. I actually mean, ‘moving toward it slowly on a mobility scooter.’ I saw someone on one of those this week get wedged between two sign posts. That nugget of information is completely irrelevant, but I thought you’d like to know…
Some would say that old lady didn’t have the right to judge me, and you may very well be on to something there. Her entire attitude stunk, if I’m being honest. Only moments earlier, she passed judgment on a young mother of two. Look, I hate children more than most people do. They’re loud, they stink, they embarrass you, they’re only relevant to maintain the human race – you know, the usual gripes. But even I must concede that it’s not an easy job being a parent, speaking as someone who once spent an entire day chasing after a 16 month old in a park chasing after a baby duck, with both of us being chased by its angry mother. They do act up and shout loud. They’re children. And you know what that old lady on the bus said? “GOD, I HOPE SHE GETS OFF THE BUS SOON!” The look of embarrassment across that young mothers face was awful. She looked humiliated. People can be so cruel, but by the time you’ve hit your 50s, you should know better.
I thought she was doing a good job, actually. One of these people you look at with their kids and you know they’re great at it. Not like with me at all. The last baby I held threw up on me. The one before that started crying the second I was given him and stopped when I gave him back to his mother, which also hurt my feelings. The one before that just stared at me with psycho eyes as the theme from The Shining played out in my head…
You might wonder why I spent an hour looking for chocolate. There’s this little thing coming up called ‘Easter’ and erm, yeah, apparently, nobody has told any of the people who run any of the shops in my city centre. Nothing anywhere. Lots of cards, though, but that is very weird. I mean, who gives out cards for Easter? THAT IS NOT NORMAL! Where’s the chocolate! “Well, we have lots of teddy bears…” “I DON’T WANT A TEDDY BEAR! I WANT CHOCOLATE AND… actually, I am looking for a teddy bear…”
I do my Easter shopping early. I didn’t at all get my dates horribly wrong. Ahem.
It’s very easy to criticise others, isn’t it? It’s very easy to pass judgment. I know I’m plenty guilty of that. It’s also very easy to be miserable. I’m also guilty of that. Hit with another migraine this week and a particularly nasty sugar crash what with my blood sugar problems continuing to be a pain in the arse. Which is a medical term, I think you’ll find. It’s very easy to be full of doom and gloom and let the little things eat away at you. That woman on that bus ruined what was otherwise a great Friday for me. I did all my shopping and got the right bus and got off at the right stop, after spending the entire week panicking that I’d get the wrong one and get off at the wrong stop, and that something would go wrong with my shopping, as so often does, victims of my social anxiety. We all remember that time I rocked up in that shop and forgot how to add. That wasn’t a great day, must be said.
Life is incredibly short and incredibly fragile. You don’t know when it’s gonna end, or how. Hopefully bacon related. You can spend your time worrying about others and the little things, or you can realise they’re trivial. Sure, they matter, but they shouldn’t consume you. They shouldn’t become you. You should try to live each day with a smile on your face and enjoy the good moments, and hold on to them, so when something bad happens, all you have to do is remember the good and remember that no amount of bad will ever take that away from you. It’s all you can do. Bad things will happen. What I learnt from that angry and bitter old lady on the bus was this. You gotta be better than that. Instead of putting each other down by highlighting our flaws and what’s different, how about we be nice to each other? At least then people won’t write ‘total bastard’ on your gravestone. Make the most of life whilst the Sun shines, and don’t be the one who extinguishes that flame in others…
Now if you don’t mind, it’s time for my third bacon sandwich of the day…
South African social rights activist and retired Anglican bishop, Desmond Tutu (b. 1931), once wrote: ‘We are fragile creatures, and it is from this weakness, not despite it, that we discover the possibility of true joy.’
Peace Out :|:
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