Things I don’t give a hoot about but really should

I read a blog this week and it got me thinking. It was a gleeful and energetic list of the things that A Brit In Lapland couldn’t give a fig about.
There weren’t too many things I could think of celebrating not caring about – except perhaps football and what other people have on their iPods. Oh and what kinds of sweeties people ate as children, don’t really give a monkey’s about that too.

But what I did happen on were two lists.

Here’s the first:

Things I don’t want to care about, but I do.

The mess my house is in. I’d like it lovely, but I just can’t make it happen. Not with the other things I do and this low boredom threshold.

The fact we don’t always sit at the table to eat. I really think it’s important but not everyone else in the family sees it that way.

My inability to speak foreign languages. I’ve really, really tried. Even living in Spain for a while only made what little French I did know fall out of my ears.

Manners. I’d like to think all humans are equal, but ones with bad manners just don’t seem to be.

What other people think of me. Clearly, the logical thing is to disregard what other folk think and just do what you know to be right. It’s not that easy though.

Missed opportunities. Obviously, if it’s in the past there’s nothing I can do about it so the right thing to do is let it go. Then why do I spend so much time considering what I should have said or done. Not so easy, is it?

And here’s the second.

Things I should care about, but I just can’t make myself.

My carbon footprint. I do try but mostly because I care what people think of me. I just couldn’t imagine saying: “Thanks for the kind offer of a free holiday in somewhere really exotic plus flights, but I won’t be going because of the environmental impact.”. Likewise disposable nappies.

My cholesterol. Again, I make an effort but there’s bacon, and sausages, and butter.

Teaching my boys to tie their shoelaces. We spent a very grumpy afternoon at it but that’s what Velcro’s for.

Helping out at parent council events or joining committees. I hold the strong view that if we live in a community and benefit from it, then we all ought to take part in the running thereof. Just can’t stand it though. I ran the newsletter for the toddler group once and I only lasted one edition before I had to quit.

Politics – small p. I know I’d have got on better in many areas if I’d been bothered to pay attention to what wasn’t said, or made the effort to join the right clique. But I didn’t.

Missing opportunities. Of course I could now be a high-flyer, top salary, best-seller. I could be thinner, I could be better-qualified or wiser. I could still do 130wmp at T-line that I can read back. I could have a clean driving licence or a full set of crockery. But I don’t and I don’t really care either.

PS Actually I do care about the best-seller one and I’m going to buy some new crockery soon.