Recent episodes of ‘devils own luck’ with newly purchased electrical appliances struck again this morning when a drill driver (purchased only an hour earlier) proved faulty. Despite the tool’s motor working as designed, frustratingly the bit chuck’s jaws were less reticent to function as planned (ie not tightening or slackening). This episode subsequently derailing plans to undertake chores I’d had to postpone when bereft of boring tool.
Footnote – The boring utensil of which I allude is, of course, a power drill. Not a tool whose company is as tedious as a coal shovel debate with ‘Ripping Yarns’ snooze inducer Eric Olthwaite.
This morning’s trial by appliance joining two recently purchased TV’s in securing membership to the ‘Let’s Press Gary Strachan’s Buttons To Antagonise Him Club’. A society whose affiliates list appears to grow ever larger since reaching middle-age, disenchantment on Planet COVID, along with the challenges manifesting from a new role as full time carer to my mum.
Irritation at prevailing existential circumstances, regardless of how minimally disconcerting they play out, never failing to evoke the briskest of Strachan diatribes. Generally uttered at no one in particular, yours truly’s disenchanted chunter of “For fucks sake!” a frequent daily soundbite these days around chez Strachan’s chambers and corridors.
That being said, when I analyse my life, I can’t really fathom why such angry outbursts play out so forcefully. After all, my current lifestyle is by no means littered with overly troublesome episodes. True, I get frustrating at being hamstrung by my carer’s role; however, in all truth this disenchantment has more than reconciled by the gifts of nature/nurture bequeathed by both my parents.
Trust me, even though it doesn’t’t appear to be the case, I’m striving hard to embrace the outlook captured in the following John Lennon lyrics during The Beatles refrain ‘In My Life’, (music by Paul McCartney):-
There are places I’ll remember
All my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I’ve loved them all.
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you.
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new.
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before.
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more.
Notions far nearer how I genuinely feel about my life than a clouded landscape of negative memories, which in adulthood I’ve misguidedly sold myself as fact. If truth be told, I’ve not had a bad life by any stretch of the imagination.
After all, I’ve been fortunate enough to have two wonderful children, work for three great employers, engage with some inspirational individuals, along with enjoying countless laughter filled moments on an almost daily basis.
Not to mention being serendipitous enough to visit wonderful iconic cities, such as New York, Dubai, Rome, Paris, Bruges, Toronto, Monte Carlo, Nice, Florence, Pisa and Cannes. Tarries to Cyprus, Greek Islands and numerous Iberian sunspots also landing fortuitously into my lap.
Although, to gain full liberty, accepting this more truthful portrayal of GJ Strachan’s adulthood life episodes, I’d have to granting a few people an undeserved free pass……. Now where’s mes lunettes teintées de rose.