I wrote this piece for Twitter titters originally, as they are compiling a book with short stories, poems, prose and so on for Comic Relief. Unfortunately this was not a successful entry, although they did send me a lovely message saying that if they had more space they would have used it. Can I suggest that if you enjoy this post that you visit Twitter titters and look at purchasing the book. Failing that, you could give a little directly to Comic Relief Red Nose Day 2009. I took the time to write this, the people at Twitter titters, and the other writers gave their time for free. Please help, even a little makes a difference.

I hope you enjoy:

“As I write this I am currently feeling sorry for myself. Over the last day or so my body seems to have been indulging in an attempt to make me feel awful by getting rid of everything that I put in it for the back out at a heightened velocity. I will leave the description at that for readers of a more delicate disposition.

I have been unable to work for the last two days, and admittedly most of my thoughts yesterday were of the “please let it stop” or “I never knew I had muscles there, let alone be able to pull them” variety. Today has brought a little more clarity and time to think. Not necessarily a good thing I will admit.

My first line of thought was how much I hated being off sick and not able to be at work. Now this is an odd one, as I am not one of those people that sits at home being bored normally. Years of programming from employers has made us feel that we “have” to be there or we are letting someone down, depending on the kind of business you are in it could be the customer, your colleagues, your bosses and so on. You know what? This is absolute rubbish, the only reason that we are bothered by taking days off is that we might lose our jobs, and the only reason that I bosses do not like it when we are off? That they might lose theirs.

Work is the big lie of our era, that we need a job. No we don’t. We need money, as money is the arbitrarily agreed way of acquiring things that we need and want. It could just as easily been nuts, mind you we would have had a worldwide squirrel embargo if that had been the case. I work to live, end of discussion. If someone said to you that they would pay you the same to never come back, and you could do whatever you wanted with the time that it freed up, Wouldn’t you? I know I would. These people that you see on TV and in the papers when they win millions on the lottery or some-such that say that they are going to stay at work for the companionship. What is wrong with them? You can BUY better companionship with that kind of money, and the more willing and pliant kind of companionship at that. Money cannot buy you love as the Beatles quite correctly sang, but it can buy you lots of things that feel the same and leave you as sweaty and breathless afterwards. And with the same feeling of humiliation and loss of integrity. Or is that just me?

Anyway, today I have been thinking about my life and what I am doing with it. I am a relatively successful person, I have most of the things that someone my age is supposed to wish for. You know what I mean, the stuff that the people on TV adverts have, a good job, marriage, house, kids and so on. Admittedly the marriage is about to end in divorce and my ex now owns all of the house, so I am maybe doing these things in the wrong order, but they are all present and correct. All of the boxes are ticked. When I say TV adverts, I mean the ones for executive cars and expensive houses, and not the ones for loan companies and stairlifts just to clear that one up.

So there I was with some time on my hands to examine my life, and my aims for the future. I am, by nature, quite a pessimistic person. I am aware of this and I do try and counter it when I can. So there I was feeling a little worse for wear and sorry for myself, and I start to think about the world around me and my place in it. You know those questions that you start to ask yourself when you probably shouldn’t? Why am I here? What will I leave behind? Where is the TV remote? When will Black Horse finance realise that I do not want a loan? That sort of thing.

I had been watching the news, which is also quite often a bad move. The glass screen in the corner of my life that seems to want to push bad story after bad story into my living room, making me feel worse. Then suddenly there was a story about some bank almost being bankrupt (strange how you cannot spell bankrupt without bank isn’t it? We probably should have seen that one coming. Financially, ethically and morally bankrupt it would seem.)

And it woke me up, not in a literal way I wasn’t that bored, but to the self indulgence that I was displaying. Sure I am ill, but not life threatening ill. I know that it will be pretty much gone in a day or two and I will be back to my usual self. Whether or not that is a good thing is an entirely different subject, answers on a postcard and shoved down the back of your sofa please.

I am incredibly lucky compared to so many people. I am aware that reads like the start of one of those “self help” blogs, and while I am on that subject making a list of some things and putting them in some form of order does not make them a list of “hacks” for your life. The only hacks that people that write that drivel need is at their internet connection so that their pointless drivel never makes it to the rest of us. California has given us some great things, but boy have we had to suffer for it.

It is a fact that depression is only an issue in a country where people do not have enough to worry about. Please do not take this as me belittling depression as I have suffered from it many times, all I am saying is that when there are real problems you get a bitter kind of perspective on what is important and what isn’t. That’s all.

Some of the most amazing people have suffered the most amazing hardship, and we have all had some hardship in our lives. (I was tempted to make a sexual innuendo about “hardship”in conjunction with my name, which is Trevor Ship, but as you can see it was a tortuous route to the punchline, so let’s not eh?)

Is there a moral to this story? I was going to go off on a Trainspotting “Choose life” type thing, but I would hope that my point is more easily made.

You are reading this, you are lucky. You have the ability, the sight, the strength, the time and your health to read it. Do what I did, give some of your time or money to Comic Relief, or buy this book instead of reading your mates, or on a bookshelf (You know who you are!) If you have bought this book, then go you, you rock! You can tell that I am not American can’t you? We Brits just cannot do this sort of self congratulatory stuff without it sounding a little bit creepy.

(P.S Give us some money for Comic Relief or you will never see your hamster alive again. got it?)

Love, hugs and kisses

Trev.”