A Day Called 'Frustration'!

You know those days in one's life when hardly anything goes the way you want and when you wonder why you bothered to get out of bed in the morning. They are not tragic days or days of great sadness, and in terms of serious setback they rank very low and I would not even pretend they come anywhere near, but they do end up with you trying to pull your hair out and fuming as you stomp around in less than righteous anger at the frustrations of that day. Well, I had one such day a little while back and this was it:

 

I decided after lunch on that day that I would take a break from my work to get a long-overdue haircut. I work for myself, so in theory I can do this anytime. I stress the 'in theory', as it's seldom that straightforward, but alright, it's nothing out of the ordinary.

 

As I was on the point of leaving the house the phone rings and, not wanting to lose a possible job, I answer it. However, the caller drones on and, though it is about a possible job, it does not result in anything and I put the receiver down, irritated at the needless delay it has caused me.

 

On checking my change, I find I don't have enough cash to pay the barber and there's nothing for it but to make a stop at a cash dispenser in the high street to withdraw a few readies.

 

So I drive off to the high street where all the cash machines are, but, as luck would have it, I cannot find a parking-place even after two passes down the length of the street and I am forced to use the local car park where I have of course to pay a parking charge and then walk all the way back to the nearest dispenser.

 

On arrival at the nearest dispenser I see a message on the screen informing me that it is out of service. As it's starting to get a bit late in the afternoon, I decide to phone my barber and find out what time he will be closing on that day, as he is in his late sixties, works alone and closes earlier than the normal business hours. However, as try to make a phone call, I find that my mobile phone is switching off at each attempt and I realise it's out of charge and that I cannot use it.

 

With little cash, no working phone, I decide to drive to the nearby supermarket where I can do a quick shop and get some cash-back at the till and then head for my barber's in the hope that he hasn't yet shut up shot.

 

At the supermarket, madness befalls me and I take a large trolley which requires a refundable fee before it will be released and, still gripped by some sort of lunacy, I make for the gardening section to load up with a bumper-size bag of compost, only to find there isn't any of the supermarket's usual, just smaller bags twice the price, and so as my blood begins to boil I drop that and content myself with a couple of items which I didn't really need anyway but which will enable me to get cash-back at the till.

 

I join the queue at a cash-desk - well, when I say queue, it's composed solely of one little old lady - and when the moment of payment arrives she asks for a cash-back of £50, the maximum. When my turn comes I too ask for cash-back but I am duly informed that that is the last bit of cash available for the day and that instead I can use the cash dispenser in the supermarket, which is what I do, realising at the same time that I could have done that in the first place and not bothered with the handful of groceries. But there you are, we are always wise after the event or at least we are not to know that at the time.

 

By now, of course, it's getting late and I realise it's too late to go for my haircut, as I will have to pay to park and the chances are that the shop will already be closed, so I decide to admit defeat and leave it for today. There can surely not be two days like this one in the same week, can there? My laughable ill-fortune is however not over for the day. There is more to come to crown it all and assure my complete frustration!

Before returning home, however, I drop by the petrol-station to fill up. On arrival there, all the pumps are busy and so I join the queue to await my turn. Eventually my turn comes and, having filled up, I go into the shop to pay and join another queue there. On coming back out, I see an uninhabited wilderness before me: not a single car to be seen on the forecourt and all the pumps available for use. It seems the congestion only occurred for my benefit and once I had been through the mill everything cleared up again. Nevertheless, to disprove this cockamamie theory of mine I decide to linger at the forecourt for a moment and see when the next car comes. After waiting in vain for some time, with the forecourt still deserted of all life and with my theory of my supernatural persecution confirmed, I start up the car and just as I am heading out I spot in my rear-view mirror one car and then another entering the forecourt. Theory empirically proven!

The final indignity comes when I get home and realise that I have forgotten to collect my anti-cholesterol pills from the self-same supermarket in which I had been earlier on in an attempt to get some cash for the barber's. As I'm too drained of energy by now and weakened by frustration, I decide it is best left for tomorrow when, hopefully, Sod's Law will have eased up and allow me to get something done. Today nothing can be done, at least not without maximum frustration and loss of the will to live!

This has been a day to forget. Over and out....

Let's have a moan!

The most challenging thing about this blogging lark is to come up with a new topic each time that's worth writing about and, more to the point, that's worth reading. This is of course a subjective issue, as what is of interest to one person may be grindingly boring to another. As an example, you may have already decided this post is going to be mind-numbingly tedious and are exiting as you read this sentence!

Once, when many of us kept a paper diary, it was more of a spontaneous act and we did not much care what we wrote in it or even how we wrote. We scribbled away secure in the almost certain knowledge that it would end up in some dusty attic corner to be consumed by moths long after we had turned to dust ourselves! We never showed it to anyone, didn't think it would be of interest to anybody, and it was often so untidily written that it was doubtful if it could be deciphered by anyone who came by it even if they could be bothered to make the effort.

Well, all that changed with the advent of online blogging. Now when we keep a blog, which is I suppose a sort of electronic journal or diary, one's posts are likely to be read within minutes or hours of having been published, and many of those reading them are likely to be complete and utter strangers. And some of them will want, and will normally be able, to comment on our posts.  (In this respect, I count myself lucky as there is no danger of this happening to my blog which seems to be the best-kept secret on the Internet ... hehhe... so no-one will read this post either! But never mind, I will pretend I'm only doing it for myself.).

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is how may bloggers out there find the time to do what they do. They not only post every week and often more than once, they also tweet every day, they respond to comments from their many followers, they're on Facebook and other social networking websites, and they're into God knows how many other Internet activities! And some of these bloggers have hundreds or thousands of followers! Just as on FB where there are individuals with thousands of 'friends'! How do they do it? How do they manage to keep all these online sites of theirs updated, interact with visitors and still have some sort of a 'real' life? Beats me. Many bloggers are debating the issue of whether they should continue with an open-to-all blog or restrict it to just a few. To my mind, 'privatising' a blog in this way doesn't make much sense. The whole point of writing a journal online instead of keeping a paper diary, I venture to suggest, is to reach a wide audience, and not just in our own country, and to communicate one's ideas, opinions and convictions to such an audience. If our blog is only made accessible to a select few, it rather defeats the empowering and liberating purpose of the blogging ethos, I would have thought.

When you think about it, one could quite easily get involved in so many online pursuits, Blogger and Facebook being just two of the best-known ones, that there are not enough hours in a day or a week to keep them going and to see to everything else that makes up one's life. It helps of course if one does not have a job and can while away the daylight hours (in addition to the night-time ones!) in all these online activities. And, judging by many people who are continually posting things on Facebook throughout the day (often announcing their progress or achivement in some FB application), there are many idle souls about.

But it's not just online applications that are taking up so much of people's time, it's also all the weird and wonderful hand-held electronic gadgets that are must-haves for everyone today, especially the young. In my case, I’m still getting the hang of the mobile phone! Yet the youth of today take to all this gadgetry so easily and so seamlessly. They have their MP4 player (or whatever version it is now) and their i-phone, and i-pad, and i-tunes, and the rest of it. Somehow it all gels together and makes sense to them, whereas to us 'older folk' it just adds to the confusion in our lives. Thus, when you're out and about and unable to use your computer, the cellphone doubles up as one! Never mind about taking photos, that's old hat now. Today's mobile phone can take you onto the Internet and you can browse around, send and receive e-mails, network, and do many other things that you would do on your desktop or laptop.

Coming back, however, to the 'original' function of the phone, it's become such a common sight nowadays to see people speaking on their mobile phone in the street, in shops, banks, on the bus and the train, and in the park, to name but a few places. Have you noticed how loudly people seem to talk when on the phone in any queue? When I’m in a bank or post office queue (which I try and avoid like the plague), anyone speaking on their mobile seems to feel the need to talk at the top of their voice, much more loudly than they would in a face-to-face conversation. Now why is that, I wonder? They don't appear to care that everyone can hear them or that they might be inconveniencing others around them and so they witter on and on about nothing in particular. You find yourself fighting off the urge to grab hold of the confounded device and throw it as far as you can until it shatters into a thousand pieces.

Still on the subject of the cellphone, the other day I was strolling in a small park near my house and saw a woman doing one of these fast walks around the park. When I spotted her she was already on the phone. She did one lap round the park and continued talking on the phone. She did another and was still yapping on her mobile. And, as I left the park, she was still with her hand raised holding the phone to her ear, prattling on as she continued fast-walking round the park. What on earth did she have to say that needed such a long phone conversation and in the middle of what was supposed to be a serious exercise session? She was seriously addicted to the damn thing!

How about when you get on the bus or in the tube and someone has earphones on as they listen to invariably ear-splittingly loud music. And of course you can hear it even though it's usually quite muted. Nevertheless it's annoying, to say the least, but you put up with it. To object would doubtless make things worse, as the culprit, almost certainly a 'yoof', will give you a mouthful and then carry on regardless. So you either put up or shut up, or ship out! That is you move to another seat. There's really no other sensible way.

I think that as a society we have become coarser in our manners, boorish and churlish in our ways. We are too ready to be rude to strangers, to use bad language in public, and to be a nuisance to others around us. We are more confrontational now, more vociferous, and more demanding. The inconsiderate way we use our mobile phone in public is just one example (but a good one) of the couldn't-care-less attitude we have adopted towards others. “I will talk loudly and endlessly on the phone even if I'm in a queue in a public place, because that's what I want to do!”  "I will wear headphones in crowded places and live in my own little world of blaring pop music as if no-one else exists, because that's what i want to do!"

For my final moan to round things off... I often see in my local park (yes, we're back in the park) an elderly person with a young person by their side (who looks to be in their late teens or early twenties).  The youth is obviously a sort of minder charged (probably by Social Services) with taking the elderly person out for a walk and looking after them in general. But what do I often see? I see the young minder with a mobile phone glued to their ear, busy nattering away. Just the other day I saw a flagrant example of this. Whilst I was doing several rounds of the park, the minder spent the whole time chatting on his mobile, totally oblivious to his charge who, poor old dear, just sat there looking around and looking lost. There was no attempt by the minder to engage her in conversation or to give her the slightest bit of attention. He was much too absorbed in his phone call. And this is not an isolated instance, as I have witnessed this sort of thing on a number of occasions - a clear example of where a praiseworthy act is done but in a half-hearted manner.

Well, that's enough griping from me - for the time-being. It seems I’m getting to be a right moaning minnie, or, in my case (for reasons of gender), a moaning manny! But what can I do? It's an age thing... I think.