All the bloody time. I just haven't got the energy to do anything, and when I do force myself to do something, and I mean force because the least activity seems to involve a huge effort, I run out of steam halfway through. It quite literally feels like that-on a recent walk which was not a major affair, perhaps 5 miles of fairly easy terrain, I simply came to a complete standstill after about 4 miles. I had nothing; couldn't have put another foot forward to save my life, not if the devil had been chasing me with a job application. I just had to sit on a rock for half an hour before I could carry on.
I hope I haven't got ME. I don't want ME. I didn't ask for it, and if I can avoid it, it would suit me fine, thank you very much. Perhaps I'm being a drama queen, and it's just me adjusting to my new circumstances and recovering from my holiday. Hope so.
It's not that I'm going without sleep. I can sleep for Wales-actually, I could sleep for Earth in the Interplanetary Olympics- and my lifestyle allows plenty of time to sleep in. Time, I think, to book a seeing to by Doctor whateverisnameis, maybe he can give me some make you go pills, I mean make you perambulate, not make you go....
But what's the point. It is World Cup time, and I bloody hate football. I grew out of it when I was about 12, and it still seems to me to encapsulate the most childish and least attractive of people's natures. My tv is swamped with adverts jumping onto the bandwagon, on behalf of 'our boys', meaning England. I'm not even English, and therefore have no more interest in thier National Side than anyone else's. The constant repetition of this rubbish makes me hope that Germany crush them in the final. The buggers are insufferable when they beat anyone, poor old Germany especially, and of course all the unpleasant recist and xenophobic overtones are out on show.
Not that I am suggesting that we Welsh are backward in coming forward in xenophobicness mind you-for from it, we can hold our own with any bigots in the world-but at least we save our most potent bile for our own conntrymen if they do not happen to conform to what we think is the proper way of being Welsh.
All that said, of course I'll be in some pub watching the Final, whoever is in it (Brasil will of course win!). It is the World Cup after all, it's only once every 4 years and it should be a reasonably entertaining game....
Everybody should, in my view, be proud of thier nationality, what they are and where they are from. What I cannot abide is the dissing, the contempt for other cultures, that seems endemic and all pervasive in football, at club level as well as national (who are you?).
Enjoy the football, who and wherever you are. I'll be in bed somewhere recovering from nothing in particular!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment