There are times… well, a few times…. Actually every now and then… or, maybe once in a lifetime there is a time when you begin to think that all is not quite as it should be.
I don’t know: maybe you suddenly become concerned about the curious silence in the mainstream media about the penguins, maybe you one day realise that you cheese salad baguette does not quite live up to what you expected of it, maybe your spanners no longer have the allure of your younger days.
Anyway, whatever it is about your life, or at least one aspect of it, there is something not quite right. Maybe you realise that all the stuff you’ve bought recently is not what you wanted, but still you bought it anyway, perhaps even you have become even dimly aware that buying things really doesn’t seem to make all that much difference. Except – obviously – to your bank account and that the latest gizmotronic wizardry leaves you feeling flatter than a field in Norfolk or a supermodel’s frontage.
Whatever it is that you feel is not right you know there is little you, or anyone, can do to put it right, because you don’t really know what is wrong, apart from everything and that it all seems too big, too complicated, too much of a pain in the arse to even attempt to put it right.
It is then, only then, that you sit down and realise that you are well and truly fucked.
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