I read an article in the Sunday papers (Matt Rudd in the Sunday Times magazine) about self-help gurus. Most of the books sampled for the article focus on how to be more positive, or happy, or resilient (or maybe just clean and tidy, it seems*). This got me thinking how I could – without bothering to read any of these myself – somehow turn my usual January grumpiness into something more upbeat.
Returning cold and wet from an ill-timed walk in the park yesterday, I realised (after I’d warmed up a bit and had a shower) that I should challenge myself to see the positives in otherwise negative situations. After all, part of the point of this blog is to see the funny side when at least part of me is weeping.
Here’s my first attempt.
(1) My coldness and wetness after the walk – in fact, I had seen the brightest rainbow I can ever remember whilst in the park. So actually, the walk had been splendid after all.
And here’s proof 
(2) My chronic inability to get up early in the morning – on the plus side, this meant that when we had a localised power cut at the weekend, rather than struggling to get water boiled on the gas hob in an unsuitable container (like others in the street, according to WhatsApp) or fretting about the potential spoilage of Christmas leftovers in the freezer, I gently snoozed through all the fuss while my electric alarm clock flashed helplessly (and silently) beside me and awoke to a fully-restored power system.
(3) My dreadful overspending online in the run up to Christmas – this has in fact benefitted me because I have finally learned the long number on my credit card (after it has been the same for more than three years). This means that for all the many purchases I am likely to make in the coming indoor months, I won’t have to gallop up- or down-stairs to retrieve the stupid card.
(4) My inability to remember the right word at the right time – I have decided that I will just have to roll with this and try and find it amusing. Genuinely the other day I was trying to find the word ‘hypochondriac’ but the first word that came out was ‘autobiography!’ followed (slightly more logically, at least in terms of sound) by ‘pyromaniac’ and then ‘insomniac’. I truly don’t know what this says about me. My own ‘autobiography’ may lead me to the early signs of dementia. I honestly can’t remember why I wanted to use the word anyway.
That’s enough. I have sufficiently raised my spirits now because I have also achieved a blog post out of all this nonsense. Although, in so doing I have failed to take enough exercise. Perhaps I’ll make a spur-of-the-moment online purchase right now and use a DIFFERENT credit card…
…runs upstairs…
* Mrs Hinch and Marie Kondo. In small doses, I can appreciate their teachings (although have only really see them third hand via Twitter etc).