The importance of trousers when dealing with temporary depression.

[Gyppo]

The importance of trousers when dealing with temporary depression.

   I)  When you get up put your trousers on.  Its all too easy to go back to bed if you haven't got dressed.  This doesn't mean you can't still slump under your duvet in an abject self-pitying heap whilst wearing your trousers, but it will feel wrong, especially if you have lumpy stuff in your pockets.

   2)  Avoid deep philosophical questions like 'Why are we here?' or 'Why the hell didn't I buy some bread yesterday when I knew I'd eaten the last slice?'

   Why?  Because there is no single definitive answer to the first question, and many of them will just depress you even further.

   The second question has already been asked, possibly sub vocally, when you couldn't have your morning toast and you already know the only answer is to put your shoes on and go out and buy bread.  This is much easier if you are already wearing your trousers ;-)  Are you beginning to see how central trousers are to your well-being?

   In the summer you may be quite willing to visit the shops without a shirt, but trousers are not so easily ignored.  Shorts will fill the same role for some people.

   If you become so obsessed with buying bread that you rush out of the house sans trousers then you'll probably find you've locked yourself out, due to your keys being in your trouser pocket.  If you're one of those ultra organised types your keys may be on an expanding chain fastened to your belt.  Your belt is, of course, with your trousers.

   This situation is best avoided at all times, but especially if you're feeling depressed or vulnerable.  Especially in the cold and wet as you may be forced to ask a neighbour for shelter until the locksmith or a relative with a spare key arrives.  The laws of chance dictate that it will not be a neighbour you either; a) like, or b) are comfortable around without your trousers.

   Having left your house keys beyond the barrier of the locked door you will probably also discover your mobile phone is there with them, having a party in your absence.  (You wouldn't believe what phones and keys get up when unsupervised.  They're worse than teenagers.)   Therefore having the locksmith's number in your phone list is about as useful as offering  a drink of water to a drowning man, or throwing a box of matches to Joan of Arc.

   If the weather is mild and you are expecting a friend or relative to arrive you may decide to hide your embarrassment by clambering over your rear fence and hiding in your garden until they turn up.  This is a very viable option under these fortuitous circumstances.  A good friend or relative will always try the back door or side gate if you don't answer. Especially if you're old and they think you may be unconscious or dead on the floor.

   But once again the laws of chance kick in.  And they usually kick hard.  The neighbour you prefer to avoid will almost inevitably catch a brief but unidentifiable glimpse as you drop into cover beyond your fence.  This will trigger one or both of two responses.

   First they will beat on your door or ring your bell incessantly to inform you of the semi-naked intruder.  This will be infuriating because you will be aware of them putting their mucky fingerprints all over your paintwork or running down the battery in your bell.  Then they will alert other neighbours because those who spy individually usually hunt in packs.

   Or they will call the police.  The boys or girls in blue will usually scramble over your fence, or at least lift one of the responders high enough to check out your garden.  At this point the embarrassment peaks but the escapade is usually over.  Or is it?

   One of the first things they will do, once reasonably satisfied you aren't a 'runner' from some nearby mental hospital or home, is ask for proof of identity.  And where is your wallet?  In your trousers...

   This is one of the times when it's really beneficial to be 'a local character', well known to the local bobbies.

   I bet you never realised just how important trousers, worn on the body and not just slung across a bedside chair, are to avoiding depression.

   ===

   PS.  I've cheered myself up immensely by writing this bit of nonsense.  I will now check my pockets and go out to buy a loaf.  Probably wouldn't have happened without my trousers ;-)

   Gyppo

[nosuchmember]

LOL   Thank you Gyppo. Your story really brightened my morning. It made me think how bad my morning could have begin.

[Gyppo]

Excellent.  That's my good deed for the day completed then.  I can now unleash my Inner Bastard until midnight ;-)

I probably won't, but it's nice to have the option.

Gyppo

[nosuchmember]

Excellent.  That's my good deed for the day completed then.  I can now unleash my Inner Bastard until midnight ;-)

I probably won't, but it's nice to have the option.

Gyppo

 Gyppo, I wish I had a little of your writing ability-I'd move the world with laughter.  LOL

[Gyppo]

Often it's far more about seeing what's there and asking the 'what if' questions which open up the hidden possibilities than the 'technical' writing ability.

Many people can learn the rules and write an elegantly crafted sentence.  Many essayists do this.  They create prose which is smooth and delightful to read.

But the storytelling gene, the thing which subconsciously prompts you what to put in and what to leave out, warns what should be left intact and what can be tweaked within an inch of its life for effect, comes from somewhere other than just logic and learning.

I believe there is a storytelling gene, but nurture undoubtedly plays an part.  Mum and Dad both told me stories, and, perhaps more importantly, listened to mine.  Mum was a merciless proof-reader, but always willing to listen to the case for personal style, or breaking the rules for a specific effect.

Lying was heavily frowned upon in our family, and seen as an abuse of the storytelling gift.  But it was sometimes okay to lie to protect someone who needed it.

I was lucky.  Nobody I cared about told me I was wasting my time.  As for the ones I didn't care about I was a robust enough little soul not to let them get me down.

But there are other writers who thrive on adversity and argument, which proves that we all have to find our own way.

Gyppo