The stresses of modern life.


Well where do we start with this. First up when my current phone contract ends I am seriously thinking about just getting phone that is just a phone. We are all slaves to our phone. When my alarm goes in the morning after switching my alarm off the first thing I do is pick my phone up and through squinted eyes as my eyes adjust to the bright light see what alerts I have. This is fucking sad. The phone is then never out of my sight for the rest of the day. It ventures to the toilet with me and last thing at night I am on the bastard thing. I even kid myself and settle down to sleep the reach an arm out and grab the phone for one last look. How Mrs Fay must be wishing my arm arches the other way, or maybe not unless its my birthday or chrimbo. Now I readily admit I am a social media slag with two Facebook, Twitter and Instagram accounts and how can I not mention this world renowned blog. But there comes a point when you think what the fuck is actually going on. We are all slaves to these bastard contraptions. So the world of Nokia awaits, you know those cool little phones that the battery lasts for about 7 days on. Funny enough though as my contract expires the rumoured I-phone 8 is due for release and we all know how much I love to bend over and be bummed by Apple products !!

 

Another stress of modern life is the school run. There are two ways to attack the school run. One in a 4×4 Chelsea Tractor that gives you the ability to “bounce” the car fully parked onto pavement. I am about to start a reclaim the pavements campaign this pisses me off so much. I reckon a by-law should be passed that any car fully on the pavement should be allowed to be covered in flour and eggs. Such is the madness of cars by my kids school it only takes one Chelsea Tractor stand off to bring the streets to a standstill. With infants and juniors by ours and feeding off a main road every morning is chaos. So if you decide to try and make it on foot you have the wacky races on the streets but also the added fun of little Beyonce or Diesel chopping at your heels with their scooters ( It’s Ok my youngest little Britney Mercedes Fay has one of these scooters) But the stresses of modern life are real. Just on the pavement by our infants school I had noticed a couple of miniature vodka bottles about. I thought nothing of it. But today there were to small wine bottles and a mars bar wrapper. Now walking the dogs for lunch the bottles were not there but then appeared later after the afternoon school run. Now I have visions of a sloshed parent getting rid of the empty bottles and scoffing a mars bar to sober up. I know my own tricks too well. I mean who does not like a double gin and biscuit boost around 3pm in the afternoon before you pick the kids up ? What just me ? Nah at least one person as the evidence shows below. What gets me is the way the bottles have been so neatly placed. Oh shit I need a drink to pick this bastard child up from school. Oh shit I better not get collared and leave evidence in the car. But hang on I am not a litter lout so I will place these two bottle neatly on the side ? It might explain the driving standards around the school roads. How can I look at the parents in the playground now without turning into Taggert and trying to work who the phantom boozer is. A few of the school mums are on my list !! I shall be looking for tell tale signs of Mars Bars around your mouth.

The other night me and middle sprog (Charlotte 9) headed to Tesco on Allerton Road and I bored her for about the 54th time with the tale of in ye olden days that my school used to be here. She wanted to buy some eater eggs for her mates ? I did warn here that buying Easter eggs so early that the Easter egg monster in our house might mean a few go missing before easter (Wrapper to be found by two miniature bottles of white wine on Dundonald Road) but she got them anyway. As ever when go for Tesco for one thing and come out with a whole range of fat bastard goodies. I like to keep up my tradition and I always buy a few tins of Tesco own brand beans to put into the food bank container on the way out of the shop. As I done this Charlotte looked at me like an alien had landed. “Why are you putting the tins in there” she said. I explained that some people didn’t have enough money for food so I always donate a few items that get passed to a place called a food bank where people who need food can pick stuff up. She could not quite get her head around the concept and quite right she fucking should not as well. It is 2017. Why do I even have to put items of food to be collected to pass on to people in my country who can’t afford food. Another stress of modern life. I wont go off on a rant and leave this parked here.

So modern life is stressful and has a whole lot more of stress to add to the above mentioned topics. The “Depression” word is becoming more understood. Maybe the phantom boozer on the school run just needs this to take the edge of modern life as he/she looks at her phone and see’s the people with their “Perfect” lives on Facebook pumped into their minds via their phone. Maybe they are worried that they are on the edge of a spiral of bad luck followed despair and be dependent on me lashing a few tins of beans to be collected for them. Maybe there are more deep routed and more sinister reasons to hit the grog. Who knows but we always have each other and friends and family. There is always a way up. Don’t let the bastards grind you down.

Peace

Fay x x x x x x x x

 

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