Over the Counter Optimism

Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment, or maybe there’s some sort of order to it all. Like I’m some sort of magnet for bad vibes. Either way it’s getting mildly annoying. I appear to be the sort of guy who would attempt the world record for building a house of cards, only for someone to steal one of the bottom cards as I’m working on the top row. Presumably they just want to play a game of hypothetical Snap, and don’t even realise I’m trying to build something of importance. Of course, the house of cards is only important to me. No one else bats an eye lid, they’d probably be more interested in Jordon’s exploding tits. Although I believe the PC term for her nowadays is ‘Katie Price’, cos, y’know, people who made their name shagging around and flashing their under carriage to anyone who’d so much as offer her a hamburger deserve a ‘professional’ name.

But I digress.

This year I’ve been put on this new prescription, it’s called Optimism. I take two tablets a day and feel cheery for up to twenty minutes. The side effects are usually mild; casual vomiting and odd feelings of immaturity occur, at the worst. Unfortunately I think my Doctors started to water down the medicine so that there’s more to go around (damn you socialised healthcare!). Either that or I’m building up a tolerance to it, thus requiring a larger dose. But apparently that’s dangerous, I don’t want to become an Optimism junkie or something.

So I’ve tried Optimism substitutes, listening to happy music was a start. Unfortunately for me, finding happy music on my laptops (his names Reginald Starscream by the way, to the uninitiated) like finding a Tory politician in a public hospital. The happiest songs I can find on my playlists are the ‘action theme’ from Doctor Who series 5, and a Jethro Tull song called ‘Bungle in the Jungle’. Which is either a concise commentary on the similarities between the savagery of the jungle and the city and its denizens animalistic tendencies. Or about shagging.

So that musical experiment failing me I tried a different approach, thinking happy thoughts. I shan’t bore you with the details but it didn’t go too well. Therapy starts next Tuesday.

Maybe I really should ‘up’ my dosage, or get a new Doctor who doesn’t fiddle my metaphorical meds. And on a side note, I’ve just noticed I wrote “Doctor who”. The mind boggles. Anyway…where was I? Karen Gillans legs!

No, that wasn’t it. Oh yeah…this is the part where I make some sort of sweeping statement that ties everything that I’ve just ejaculated onto the page seem like a coherent piece, when in actual fact I've simply lost my train of thought/need to sleep. Optimism, it’s a bit like Marmite, or Micheal McIntyre. You can try it and either love it and let it improve your life, or be reduced to a gibbering wreck. And if you disagree with me, you sir are worse than Herpes.