Happiness seems to exist in a centre ground we generally fail to achieve
FREEDOM (I won’t let you down) rang through my head as I cruised along the M62.
Although George Michael’s catchy tune was inspired by emotional conflict, record company battles and the pressure of fame, I felt his excitement.
The twins were on a minibreak with Victoria at her mum’s in Scarborough and I was going back to base for a bit of light work.
I was home alone for five days, very much like the film but with a smaller house,
more alcohol and hope- fully not fighting real-life burglars.
Surprisingly, my first act upon arrival was to give the place a bit of a spruce up.
The debris of toys lying dormant in corners was transferred to boxes and washed clothes were moved from the bottom of the stairs all the way to the top.
My next act was to look at a book I got for Christmas before I decided on a nice early night.
I imagine George Michael’s celebration of his freedom was a lot more exciting than mine was turning out to be.
None the less, I was happy and decided to have a lie-in the next morning and read my Christmas book, in order to be fully rested for my work.
Unfortunately, I discovered my body clock woke me at exactly 6.50am then work-based anxiety kicked in and I was out of bed by 7.30am.
The day was a solitary affair although I do live near a Tesco, where the staff are paid to be polite, so I decided to go and get some crisps and talk incessantly at whoever happened to be on the till, until security asked me to leave.
Thankfully, it was soon
6pm and time for alcohol and television. I watched Cannonball Run II and Anchorman II, both films Victoria would hate.
Fortunately, I had a social engagement on day 3, at which I planned to fully celebrate my freedom by getting really drunk.
Day 4 dawned and nothing changed apart from I had a glass of wine at 5pm, sparking fears of alcoholism if I ever had to live alone.
Before I could fully enjoy the freedom of day 4, it was now day 5 and I was considering wine with lunch, convincing me I’d be a lonely alcoholic.
Finally, Victoria and the twins arrived home with all the kerfuffle I’d surprisingly missed, and it stuck me the last few days had been dull.
Unfortunately, it was back to annoyingly hectic and therein lies the big problem with life, there’s no happy medium, it’s either boring or stressful and we’re never happy with it.