If I were to take a quick straw poll of average humans on an average day in Averageville (Popn: Lots) asking how they thought their lives could be improved I’m willing to bet (don’t quote me, I don’t have a lot of spare cash right now) an above average number would claim that the addition of stuff (or indeed, things) would be the way to go.
And they’d be wrong.
Poor, sweet, hypothetical fools.
Today marked the end of my fourth week in a new job. People change jobs all the time of course, but for me, smack in the middle of my forties and with no experience of life with another employer on the African continent it was quite a scary leap.
It’s the best decision I’ve made in a very long time.
A month ago I had no idea who Martyn Ashton was. I’d be surprised if most of you reading this are not uttering the words Martyn who? at this very moment. Yet in the space of a few short weeks he has become part of daily life in our house.
Assuming you’ve fought off the lure of Google and have stuck with me until paragraph two I can tell you that Martyn Ashton is a mountain bike trials and stunt rider. I’m no expert when it comes to these things but even with my lack of knowledge I’d be comfortable saying he’s a bit good.
In our house he’s also known as The Special Man.
Fear. Uncertainty. Doubt.
And not an Elmer J. in sight.
I’ve got a decent case of all of them right now. Especially when it comes to running.
The last month of my life has not been of a particularly good vintage in terms of my general health and wellbeing. Since the middle of June I’ve had pleurisy (mild), bronchitis (medium), strep throat (ouch) and sinusitis (epically bad). I’ve lost count of how much money I’ve EFTed to health practitioners. Seventeen days of antibiotics aside I’ve also lost count of the various medications I’ve chewed, swallowed, sniffed and sprayed. Throw in three visits to the doctor and a wallet-lightening set of chest X-rays and payday can’t come fast enough.
It’s difficult for a naturally upbeat person to remain positive in periods like this so you can only imagine how I’ve fared.