Confined to my Sick-Sofa
Ok, I know it should be sick-bed but as we took delivery of two brand-spanking new sofas today I thought I’d spend the afternoon on one feeling sorry for myself whilst nursing a horrible cold.
I may have felt terrible but the sofa felt good – quite a relief considering that they were £400 each.
It may sound silly but buying such things makes me feel grown-up. I know I am now in my mid-thirties with a wife, a son, a mortgage and lots of responsibilities but in my own mind I don’t quite feel like a sensible, 30-something father. Maybe everyone feels like this and life and its responsibilities creep up unnoticed. All the ingredients are there and looking at it now it seems as though things are pretty much fully baked. I’m a house-owning family man, a real grown-up adult with two new sofas. I’m not sure how that happened, but it has, and come to think of it there’s nothing wrong with it.
For me there was never a recipe for success, everything just got thrown into the pot and I hoped for the best. Other people have a master plan and I wish them luck. The trouble with plans as far as I am concerned is that even the best laid plans go astray, and a plan that goes wrong can lead to bitter disappointment. I much prefer to just get on with things, take each day at a time and enjoy the moment whatever life throws at me. Today it was a stinking cold and a couple of new sofas, who knows what tomorrow will bring?
