Sunday, November 11, 2012
"Life is like..."
We have been informed, since some years now, that life is rather like a box of chocolates. And indeed it is! But not because “ya never know whatyer gunna git”. You do know what you are going to get, Forrest – from a box of chocolates that is. (“Fawrst, read the inside lid of the box, you....). No. Life is like a box of chocolates because you can be damn sure that the best ones have all gone before you get your hands on the box! (And who wants those with an orange centre, anyway, right?)
For me, though, life is more like this: Life is like wanting to go up to the next floor, in a world with no stairs, no elevators, and only down escalators. You have to work damn hard just to stay in the same place, let alone reach the top.
I also like this one, which I have stolen from someone, but I can’t for the life of me remember from whom (drop me a line if you know): Life is a terminal disease that is sexually transmitted.
But back to the escalators. Much of my life has been spent standing at the bottom of escalators, looking up. Several times I have started new jobs, in quite different fields, and each time I have been down there at the bottom, trying to figure out how to get up there to the top. Not easy when, as I think I might have mentioned, all of those escalators are going down. As if gravity isn’t enough of a force to contend with!
Oh well. Here I am again, at the bottom of an escalator. Up there somewhere are those mythical beings who somehow (so I am told, by those who claim to have seen them) make a living writing books. Oh well (he says again, with a resigned shrug), it’s warmer down here anyway. And I never did much like heights.