I’m having a year that is so bad it is reaching near epic proportions. At various points I’ve told myself things can’t get any worse – they invariably have. This is the house that I grew up in, it blew up yesterday.
For a bit of context into how bad things are: the fact that I’m currently without an income ranks about number 5 in my list of concerns. Not that I’m not worried about it – it is quite a pressing concern – but I have 4 things significantly worse to worry about at any one time.
The other day, in the early hours of the morning I was staring at the ceiling wondering what exactly I’d done to deserve all this. Which black cat I had kicked under a ladder straight into a mirror. Then I started wondering who in the world would want to change places with me at the moment? Who in the world would want to deal with all of the rubbish that has drifted my way in the past year?
The answer is probably millions (if not billions) of people.
I live in an affluent country, in a nice town, I can afford to eat and I’ve got a wife and daughter so lovely that it is only ever my faults and foibles stopping us from a perfect family.
In the near future I’ll have a job again – either based on my smarts, my awesome CV (goo.gl/fySbh) or my incredible good looks. If I’m honest, it’s probably going to be the looks.
Some of the other problems will have resolved themselves, some of them won’t – but I’ll have a roof over my head, food and a loving family. That is more than many people will have, possibly more than most.
Next time you have a bad day (the train is running late, you stepped in chewing gum on the way home, it wasn’t a very productive meeting) try and work out just where your day would fit – compared the rest of the world’s population – on a scale of good to bad days. I’ll bet you are in the 95th percentile.
It could be worse couldn’t it? Go home, chat to your friends and family, open a bottle of wine. Enjoy the summer. And sleep well.