Get­ting nowhere fast, now a ma­jor fea­ture of mod­ern life F

Huddersfield Daily Examiner - - FRONT PAGE -

EEL­ING a bit stressed today, pos­si­bly ir­ri­tated or even frus­trated ... then it may be down to the pres­sures of mod­ern life.

What is it about ev­ery­day ex­is­tence that gets us so an­noyed that by the end of the day you’ll think you’ve re­ally earned those glasses of wine or a cou­ple of beers?

It may start in the bath­room when you find there’s no toi­let roll left.

The kids have used the last one and not both­ered to get any more out.

You check the down­stairs loo for some rolls but they’ve been in there too and there’s just one piece perched on top of the card­board roll so they can say they‘ve not used the last sheet’.

You set off to work and im­me­di­ately hit heavy traf­fic caused by yet an­other set of road­works that have sprung up from nowhere and have no-one work­ing on them.

On the ra­dio the traf­fic re­porter goes on and on about ‘the rush hour.’ Why do they say that?

No-one’s rush­ing anywhere and the morn­ing and evening com­mute drags on for well over an hour – es­pe­cially on a Fri­day af­ter­noon when it seems to start at 3pm and ends around 7pm.

You pop into the su­per­mar­ket to get the es­sen­tials – milk and a bot­tle of wine – and end up chan­nelled into the self-ser­vice tills.

You even have to queue to use them now as the tra­di­tional ones are be­ing cut back.

We went into one in Wales re­cently where it was all self-ser­vice. No way? Yes way.

So you start your shop­ping, scan it, pop it where the bags should be but then get the mes­sage ‘un­ex­pected item in bag­ging area.’ You’ve for­got­ten to say you’re not us­ing any bags. Oh, and the loi­ter­ing as­sis­tant needs to check you’re old enough to buy the bot­tle of plonk. What could be more ex­pected at a su­per­mar­ket till than a fourpin­ter of milk? And then the machine re­ally starts to taunt your in­creas­ingly tor­mented mind. “Have you re­mem­bered to swipe your Nec­tar card?” No, be­cause it’s still on the kitchen ta­ble. Now if I’d brought the ta­ble with me I’d have had both the card and an un­ex­pected item for the bag­ging area. Then you carry on to work and the has­sles

You set off to work and im­me­di­ately hit heavy traf­fic caused by yet an­other set of road­works

that will in­evitably bring what­ever job you do.

To es­cape from that for a few min­utes you check the news on your phone.

Would you be­lieve it, North Korea has fired a bal­lis­tic mis­sile over Ja­pan ... again.

Cue more pic­tures of Kim Jong-un com­plete with his ‘crim­i­nal’ hair­cut and ridicu­lous grin cel­e­brat­ing what’s hap­pened and the fact he has noth­ing bet­ter to do with his time.

But then it gets you think­ing about the ‘bat­tle of the hair­cuts’ – Don­ald Trump and his likely re­sponse. What’s he go­ing to do next? Has he any­one left on his staff to fire?

Is he go­ing to re­ally go­ing to give the UK a great trade deal?

Oh no, that’s set off thoughts of Brexit. Our sum­mer hol­i­day cost us a lot more this year with the tum­bling pound.

Surely it will only go up next year, and then there are peo­ple like Ryan Air boss Michael O’Leary claim­ing flights be­tween the UK and the EU will be can­celled for months after Brexit un­less agree­ments are put in place be­fore we quit.

So we’ll be stuck on hol­i­day in the UK and its ter­ri­ble weather.

Sum­mer has been a kind of slightly milder but wet­ter ver­sion of win­ter.

After work you wind your way home, spend­ing 90 min­utes in the ‘rush hour’ try­ing to get from Hal­i­fax to Hud­der­s­field and ar­rive to find all the lights on in the house.

As you go round switch­ing each one off you’re hit with the news there’s a leak un­der the kitchen sink or the dog’s been to the vets and has cost an­other cou­ple of hun­dred quid. There’s only one rem­edy. The wine. And then you re­mem­ber the re­peated warn­ings ‘please drink re­spon­si­bly’ and think of them again as you fill up the sec­ond glass.

Fi­nally to bed and a few hours sleep so you’re re­freshed to do it all again to­mor­row.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.