Will I always be this tired?

I talked with a friend on the train home tonight, who said she seemed to be permanently tired these days. My wife said a similar thing to me last week; she just can't seem to shake off that overcoat of fatigue. We considered whether or not it was the dark mornings and evenings when we're travelling, or the busy day jobs or just our middle ages. I wondered whether we spend the early 'learning years' of our lives, full of energy and the middle 'earning years' full of fatigue and laden with objectives and responsibilities. My concern now is that the later years in life, when things become clearer again, are the 'yearning years' when we long to have the energy to do all the things that time once again allows us to do.

Craning to see

Not sure if anyone has been to the website 28dayslater where people post pictures relating to Urban Exploration. Very often they climb tall buildings or scaffolding around them or cranes in order to post amazing views of themselves surveying urban landscapes. There was a picture in Metro this week of a guy at the top of an enormous crane in East London, standing precariously along the main arm, with no supporting ropes or harness.

I had thought this was akin to those who seek out dangerous sports and do things because of the worn-out cliche 'because it's there.' Apparently they've been condemned for setting a bad example to children and the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents claims they act as dangerous role models. I then went on to think that those contemplating suicide might consider these images and seek out similar launch points.

Then I stepped back, as they (the critics as well as the protagonists) cannot do. If these people have done anything illegal then fair enough: the site should be investigated, modified and even closed. But how is it that smokers or appalling drivers are allowed to act as role models every day of the week - in real life and in the media - yet they somehow do not act as 'dangerous role models.' As far as I can see, this site is for urban explorers who want to share their experiences and seek advice. It is both a community and a discussion forum: if they want to explore in this way, then more them than me - and the views are truly awesome.

I don't like Mondays

'I don't like Mondays' is one of my wife's favourite songs. Our daughter also loves it. I think in the first case it's because it expresses my wife's disappointment that the weekend is over. For my daughter, she just loves the words and the 'fact' that someone did something about their feelings rather than wish Mondays away.

I read in METRO this morning about a survey by the HR consultancy Chiumento, that suggested two out of three people have positive thoughts about the week ahead and only one in twenty is apprehensive on a Sunday evening about going into the office. They interviewed 1000 people and I cannot comment on how robust their survey was and whether or not it's just a piece of corporate PR. What I do know is that 'I don't like Mondays' will endure, both as a great song and lyric for many people on Monday mornings, who probably also hate surveys.

Melting away

I stood on the railway platform this morning with my daughter, Hayley. We travel together every other Saturday to Covent Garden where she has a ballet class. I enjoy taking her, both to witness her excitement at the prospect of dancing but also because it is a time when we can hold time captive foar at least a few hours. I have always worried that we don't get enough time together and on Saturdays we can both re-connect (often better than the trains do) and chat about all the things that would otherwise have escaped during the preceding days. As we looked into a garden opposite the platform I saw the remains of a snowman with a forlorn looking scarf hanging off the stump that had once been his neck and head - lovingly crafted no doubt by the children in the house. I described the snowmen we had built together over the years in our own garden, pressing coal and carrots and twigs into action. Sadly, for me, Hayley couldn't really remember what they looked like. They had melted away from her world already, but for me they will always be real.

Dancing in the Moonlight

I remember a Thin Lizzy song with this title, not long before Phil Lynott died, but this isn't the subject of today's thought. I woke up at 3.00 last Thursday morning to a bedroom filled with white light. The moon was almost full and there was a great sense of calm and assurance. It was as though a new and unusual channel had been opened and ideas were flowing into my brain on the back of it. I am normally affected by the moon's phases - especially positively when it is waning - but I don't recall this ever happening to me before. It's as though there really is a parallel universe out there that only very occasionally we can enter rather than just orbiting around it. Perhaps Phil might have been able to work through his problems too if he had such a lunar experience?

Female abduction

I was reading in thelondonpaper last week about the possible abduction in London of a former Miss Universe contestant from Brazil. Shocking though this was, the paper estimated that up to 4000 females are victims of UK 'trafficking' in the UK at any one time. we have a couple of guys at work who come from Brazil and live there for part of the year. Each time they return they tell of abduction, sex-related crime and how the country is being effectively ransomed. If thelondonpaper is right, this is happening on a massive scale in London with the 'trade' estimated to cost the UK £1 billion per year. I haven't heard many politicians talking about how they are tackling this (the Home Office probably haven't noticed yet): perhaps they are the ones who should be wearing yellow shirts, rather than the footballers of Brazil?