Reading and rereading my post from earlier today has indeed opened a whole new can of worms.
As I move between the lounge (where there is a fire going in the fireplace) and my well-blanketed bed (with the warm water bottle my Gran gave me – it wears a little cover she knitted) complaining about how damn cold it is, I have made myself wonder.
That blog post contains a whole lot of bitching for someone who has a warm bed, cosy home, gourmet-cooking-housemates, car, appointments for massages and acupuncture and #firstworldproblems like ‘which coat should I wear with which pair of adidas (for some reason the one branded item I always own) sneakers’. Someone who ‘rewarded’ them-self after 7 weeks in the desert by buying an iPhone and has since proceeded to instagram almost every god damn thing in her life.
I have had 2 flat whites this week and we have not been separating our trash for recycling. It has been forever since my last confession.
Preaching and waving a finger at society is no way to change anything. Aren’t we supposed to “be the change we want to see” [insert LIKE icon with number in 100s here] is there not four fingers pointing back at me [insert wise as comments about four fingers being better than one]..?
Apparently my numbers show that I tend to worry a lot. No shit. I worry about everyone. Everything. I toss and turn and get all emo over things so big and so far out of my control that that starts to worry me…
This seems to be a lesson I need to be taught way too often.
The best I can do is all I can do.
And I can only hope that someone will be inspired to do the same. Each one teach one. hey.