Antidote

I haven’t yet done all the quizzes newspapers bombard us with at the end of year; neither have I looked at compilations of “Best of 2017”, yet. I’ll keep that till a time when I should be doing something else. Which brings us, neatly, tidily, annoyingly, to New Year’s resolutions and how to divest ourselves from old, and form new habits.

Needless to say that I don’t make NY resolutions because I tend to avoid setting myself up for failure. I’d rather decide on February, 30th, what needs to be tweaked. Why make resolutions for the “better”? We’d all be far more successful at keeping resolutions if they appealed to the worse in us.

In which spirit I wish you a 2018 to top all 2018s – may you come out the other end as you entered it … with hope in your heart.

Ursula

 

Non sequitur

Just came across a quote on someone’s blog. “Good things will come to good people”. That is such utter tosh, belied by all evidence, I don’t know what to do with myself.

I wish people would think before they regurgitate that which sounds good at first sound, and is rubbish on reflection.

U

Dream on

Now what?

I have come across fraud. Small fry. But nevertheless fraud. Executed in a devious almost imperceptible manner. I have called the outfit’s bluff several times.  In a discreet way. Just dropping the odd hint. Naturally,  I now find myself persona non grata. You can’t fault their logic. It’s all my fault that it’s their fault.

Never mind. In many ways it’s neither here nor there. Yet, what bugs me that many people (we are talking retail) are actually, and literally, short changed without them noticing.

Having recently binged on a few films, subtitled and so very noir, my imagination runs rampant.  The last thing I need is my legs broken. Or worse. So what do you reckon I should do? Take it to a “higher” authority on risk (see earlier) or keep it to myself? One of those occasions when I wish I were a Mafiosa with just about the right amount of leverage to dish out justice for the “little” man.

U

 

Dashed hope

The notion doesn’t just belong to Christmas. Though I did come across the subject in the context of it. Presents. Or should that read “expectations”?

What would you have liked to be given at any time, at any occasion, at any stage of your life – but didn’t? Worse, what were you given though you didn’t want it? Whilst you mull over both those questions so will I.

U

Que?

Don’t say my dreams aren’t amusing if draining.

Last night I fought two battles. The second vaguely baffling. As I was passing some restaurant on my way home I was offered a job to serve food at table. To start this instant. Typical. Ask me a favour, I’ll comply. Not that I was dressed for the job. My first customer’s order wasn’t for a meal, but some sort of whiskey on ice. It took me half an hour to fulfill the order, not least because it took me ages to open the bottle and then I had to find the ice. Meanwhile the clock, in my vision, was ticking. Then, somewhat belatedly, the actual bartender came to little rescue and it got worse from there. This is why I prefer daytime and wakening hours to slumber. Dreaming is stressful and you have no control over what the hell is going on.

My first [dream] however, did set me thinking. You know the third eye? Well, I had one. Right bang in the middle of, and between, my two “normal” eyes, slightly elevated on my foreheard. So far so good. However, I had to fight forces (in the dark) who told me all sorts of nonsense why I needed to give up my third eye, and what terrible things would befall me if I didn’t. I willed myself to wake up.

U

Ambition

Here is one to set a carnivore among the pigeons. You may weep.

What were your parents’ and other relatives’ plans for you?

U