peterbirks (
peterbirks) wrote2007-02-05 12:55 pm
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Batteries
Having bottled out of buying a new car (despite actually picking a couple that I planned to test-drive), I have booked the old Micra in for a service on Wednesday. Not buying a new car has the pleasing side-effect of making me feel six grand richer than I did last week, albeit at the expense of still owning a car that does not have power steering.
But the battery hadn't gone flat in the nigh-on three weeks that I had neglected to drive it.
Which is more than can be said for the Rio, which is becoming notoriously unpredictable. It's a pity really, because the Citizen doesn't have as a good a volume output (important in London where there is often a lot of extraneous noise) and the controls are more fiddly.
If the Rio packs up completely I may take it apart and see if I can fix in a new battery. In the meantime, I ought to allocate an evening to at least transferring my gym tracks to the Citizen, if nothing else.
++++++++++
My life is complex at the moment, and I wish it wasn't so. I spent too long building up cynical barriers so that, whatever happened, I could pretend not to care. But sometimes (say, once every 20 years or so) things come along that are too important for that, and I have to admit that I do care. Still, we survive, and that which does not kill us, makes us stronger. But how long can the main driving force in my life be hatred and a subsconscious (well, not so subconscious, in fact) cry of "I'll show them. I'll show them"? As it happens, as driving forces go, it's probably a fairly good one. But it does seem to indicate a seriously scarred personalilty.
But the battery hadn't gone flat in the nigh-on three weeks that I had neglected to drive it.
Which is more than can be said for the Rio, which is becoming notoriously unpredictable. It's a pity really, because the Citizen doesn't have as a good a volume output (important in London where there is often a lot of extraneous noise) and the controls are more fiddly.
If the Rio packs up completely I may take it apart and see if I can fix in a new battery. In the meantime, I ought to allocate an evening to at least transferring my gym tracks to the Citizen, if nothing else.
++++++++++
My life is complex at the moment, and I wish it wasn't so. I spent too long building up cynical barriers so that, whatever happened, I could pretend not to care. But sometimes (say, once every 20 years or so) things come along that are too important for that, and I have to admit that I do care. Still, we survive, and that which does not kill us, makes us stronger. But how long can the main driving force in my life be hatred and a subsconscious (well, not so subconscious, in fact) cry of "I'll show them. I'll show them"? As it happens, as driving forces go, it's probably a fairly good one. But it does seem to indicate a seriously scarred personalilty.
A complex Life
So - I know that I can feel professionally inadequate, stemming from the fact that I'm the youngest of four brothers and therefore too juvenile for anything serious. But what do you do with that knowledge? Can I have my injection now please, nurse?
Re: A complex Life
I always envision a couple of results, both of which make me smile.
1) We get to the end of the session, at which point the therapist says "For God's sake Birks, pull yourself together. I've got a list of people as long as my arm who would die to have the mental problems you have."
2) We get to the end of the session, at which point therapist says "hmm, interesting. My personal viewpoint, Pete, is that you are fucked up".
Finally, my inherent meanness on this matter comes to the fore, and the very matter of "I'll show them" predicates against me spending £70 a week or whatever on a bloke or a woman who just sits in a chair and lets me ramble on about how unfair life is. Hell, I can go to the Vic, play poker and do that for far less, and the good Doctor Channing will listen to me with endless patience, because I will be paying part of his rent every month just by sitting at the table.
More seriously, well, yes, it's probably an option. Self-medication (Zoloft) is something else I've considered. A third option has been to embrace the fear and accept that it is how I am.
Weird, this life thing, isn't it?
The driving force of hatred
(Anonymous) 2007-02-06 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)Maybe it's just because I read the British version at an impressionable age, but I still prefer the British title (Tiger! Tiger!) to the American (The Stars My Destination -- dull and plodding), and the British dialogue ("I kill you deadly") to the American ("I kill you filthy" -- which just sounds silly).
What then is your Vorga?
-- Jonathan