Tired Of Being Tired
Admitting to yourself it’s all getting too much
Is it me or is everyone else like this? I’m bloody tired. Bone crushingly achingly tired. Tired of spirit and tired of the world. It’s like all the joy has been sucked out of everything at the moment.
Recipe for tiredness. Add in one pandemic, a generous pinch of dismal news channels, a huge tablespoonful of Donald, no, make that three tablespoons, add in a couple of tablespoons of an inept British Government. Season with political unrest, Black Lives Matter, social distancing, and add a huge dollop of American Election and half a teaspoon of Melania revamping the White House Gardens. Just before it’s cooked add in the garnish of the anti-maskers.
Place in an ovenproof dish, put on the middle oven shelf, high temperature for an hour, and watch it explode into a complete and utter disaster that the rest of the world has to deal with.
And there you have the completed dish of a terrible year called 2020. No wonder we are all tired. I feel myself and my spirit getting increasingly tired with every day that passes.
Christmas, scrap that. I’ve canceled it. Due to the rule of six, there will be four of us munching through half a cow on Christmas Day and if we are lucky a few mince pies afterward.
