Cheer up. It could be worse…

There are times in your life when things aren’t going too well. Times when everything you touch seems to turn to¬†shit and there seems to be no end of crappiness in sight.

Those are the times when truly annoying acquaintances give you that oily simper and whip out the world’s least welcome cliche, “Cheer up. It could be worse!”

There is possibly no phrase more likely to have me instantly foaming at the mouth, scrambling for the nearest sharp object and lurching at my well-wisher with murder in my heart. When I’m feeling down, when I’m feeling that life has crapped in my trainers, I like to wallow in my self-pity. I like to think that nothing could make my situation grimmer and the lowest point has been reached…. not that I am somehow avoiding a far worse fate for which I should be thankful.

Until today that is…

I was walking along George Street in Sydney today. I was fed up. Kicking pebbles. Tin cans. The odd toddler that strayed across my path. I had reached the very lowest ebb. Things couldn’t get crappier than this… there was no further to fall.

And then I saw this bloke.

He was dressed as an Ugg boot. And I thought… “Cheer up. It could be worse”

That schadenfreude… Boy, it puts a spring in your step doesn’t it?


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