Opposite me in the carriage a bloke sat, slumped down in this big brown coat, looking really content despite the fact it was an infuriating and unexplained stoppage. I envied him. So how can he left go and let it wash over him and I’m a nervous, furious young man?
I’ve always been uptight, a worrier, I mean that’s par for the course in fanzine circles. But do actions belie happiness? In the last three months, for various reasons, I have felt happier than I have in five or six years, happier at times than I have ever been. But this is not about being smug, and I certainly easily get down at times too. No, this is about how happiness manifests itself.
Surely, if you have an underlying feeling of happiness, of being content with how life is moving, that should superceed the day-to-day anger, or at least temper it? I’m yet to discern whether this is a personal thing, whether others, while essentially happy, still get wound up by very small things and are wound tight.
The reality is there’s always going to be hang ups but if you can find ways to distract yourself from certain common sources of irritation – wheelie suitcases, poor grammar, a shocking ignorance of basic defending (see Sheffield Wednesday’s defence in the last four months) – and pressure points then perhaps it’s possible to alleviate some of that irrational, stupid stress. Sometimes knowing yourself inside out and facing up to your largely unchanging personality is the only option.
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