Disproving old adages   Leave a comment

Or coffee is better than beer.

It occurs that, for the past few weeks, I have done very little exercise or leaving the house.
One of the side-effects of my lack of exercise, and the reason this came to mind, is that my hands and especially my feet (that’s sitting at a desk all day for you) get very cold. Even in the summer, while wearing more clothes than can possibly be reasonable. It’s not so bad during the day, but when I get into bed it takes ages for them to warm up; fun when I was sharing a bed (although not for her), but when you’re by yourself it just means it takes longer to get to sleep.

So I’ve been thinking I “should” try and go to the gym, or maybe swimming, to help warm myself up. It’d probably have some positive digestive effects, too (bet you wanted to know that, eh?).

Also that I should make an effort to get out more. This one’s harder to justify, because the goals are less certain. I want to talk to people and make friends*, but this never happens. What happens is that I stand by myself for a few hours, feeling slightly uncomfortable and disassociated with the other members of my species, listening to the music and playing with my ‘phone, and then go home. With no communication beyond “can I have a Coke, please?”.
You may say that I should make an effort to talk to people whilst I’m there, but to whom would I talk? What would I say? How would anyone hear the conversation over the music? Would they want to? It is a music night, after all.

Potential topics of conversation are actually something I’ve not been able to work out. I don’t watch television, because it’s generally trite, tedious, braindead drivel. If I give something my attention for a prolonged period of time I want to have gained something from it, not just to have stared slack-jawed and vacant at the flashing lights. Even documentaries tend to pad out about twenty minutes’-worth of information into an hour’s programme with repetition, pretty pictures and repetition. C’mon, don’t just skim over the topic, put some meat on its bones! You have to give me more knowledge than reading the Wikipedia article, or there’s no reason not to just do that instead. Television is not worth the licence fee, in other words.
Whilst I do keep vaguely in tune with current affairs, I don’t like to get too involved with the news. This sounds like wilful ignorance, but face it: most of it is going to make me miserable. None of it is anything I can affect. I’m sure there are more enjoyable ways of feeling miserable and impotent [insert your own joke here]. Besides, so much peddled as news is gossip regarding people I neither know nor care about, calls for hatred of some minority group, wild speculation about events where the facts won’t be known until long after all attention has been diverted to something else, idiots shouting at each other, or just made up nonsense. Sifting through that lot for some kind of “notable events in recent history” list just isn’t worth the trouble.
I don’t make any effort to keep up with popular culture, though. Wouldn’t even know where to begin. Twitter’s “Trending Topics” list might as well be written in Sanskrit for all the meaning I glean from it. “Jezza Kyle”? “Kitchee”? They might actually be Sanskrit. Although as Sanskrit’s derived from the term “refined speech” it’s a foul slander** to suggest any of its users might refer to anything as “Jezza”.

So it doesn’t feel like there’s much chance of accosting, at random, in a pub, somebody with whom I have anything in common. Not desperately encouraging. Given the negatives I’m slightly tempted to make sure all the doors and windows are closed and locked, draw the curtains, roll down the blinds, and close the shutters***. And never leave the house, except for food, ever again.

But maybe, as my singer-acquaintance should be at CCL on Thursday, it would be better to try and go out and to the gym (a Wikipedia article would have a [why?] here), and so on Monday evening I got out the hair-clippers and made myself shaved and shawn.

* Euphemisming. Furiously.

** Unless you think this diary is sufficiently unfleeting to count as libel.

*** I’d need to have shutters fitted, but a set of external ones would be quite nice, I think.


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