This is probably going to sound enormously lame, but this next post was written due to inspiration generated from the new Young Soul Rebels War Child song, the cover of The Killers I Got Soul. Feel slightly out of perspective considering this song is about children dying in war, and listening to lyrics makes events of my life laughable in comparison.

Now I’m listening to Groove Armada’s Purple Haze, amazing song with a slight excerpt of the Hendrix classic. Listening to music I love always makes me think about the people who created it – how did they do it? How did they go and just make music? They just DID, is how.

Reading the last 8 or so posts of what’s been this arduous dedication to what I’ve probably conveyed as the hardest, most dramatic, most unique, most astounding problem ever known to any woman or man, I can’t help but thinking about what I have created.

What have I created?

A lot of HOT AIR. A lot of HOT AIR and WHINING.

I have the accent for whining. I’m an Australian. An Australian girl with a particularly whiny voice which incidentally, some people earmark as phone-sexy (I have no idea who or what would label my voice in such a way. May he rest in peace, but it’s like suggesting Steve Irwin was the modern-day Barry White). But just because I have the accent for it, it does not under any circumstances give me the license to do it incessantly.

So I screwed around with a married guy, dumped my ex-boyfriend, and married guy’s wife had a baby. And because I’m a human and not an engineered machine, I ended up with a few feelings so I screwed around a bit more. I’m sorry, is there are actually room in the already bursting-at-seams-extramarital-affair-participant club, or will I need to join the year long waiting list?

My point is (I finally have one) – for the love of god, who cares? Nobody else, that’s for sure, and it’s high time that I didn’t either. There are people out there with actual, tangible problems, and while I’m not saying the last year of my life has been problem free, it’s all about the context.

Today, whilst filling a basket with 46 quid worth of shoes and various stockings and tights in Primark, I thought about lifestyles. I looked in the mirror while I twirled around trying on my now new pair of corporate-pencil-skirt-matching red stiletto heels (which I will wear to the office – I’m sorry, but I never volunteered for the job of making life any easier for married people), and imagined telling my sordid tale to the 13-year-old child who sat in a crowded, sweaty, smelly warehouse making these shoes.

‘Well, you see, there’s a man and… and he sort of kissed me and then you know, went back to his wife and I didn’t like that, and then you know, I might have sent him this text message and then his wife-’

‘Yeah, I have a family of five, including my parents, to support with my 5p equivalent daily wage and I’ve been working for thirteen hours. When my shift ends I’m going to go home and tend to my sick little brother and try and find enough food to feed the rest of us tonight. You were saying?’

I’m not saying the wealthy Western world should feel guilty about feeling the way we do about certain situations and events in our lives (about, about). We’re humans and humans have feelings, it’s both a fortunate and unfortunate element of our make-up (genetic, not cosmetic). It’s just sometimes – well, really, all I’m trying to say, if there’s anyone reading this who’s also feeling covered by steel duvet’s weight’s worth of problems – it can help to jump outside your head for just a few minutes and think about the globe. Once you think about the globe, you can start making changes in your life to get yourself and those around you to where you’d all like to be.

Currently, I’m listening to one of my favourite songs (Groove Armada’s Lightsonic – yes, I’ve worked my way through the album during this post), I’m looking at my new boots and red heels with a secret kind of glee (I’m sorry, but my SSS will understand -  once a stirrer, always a stirrer), and I’m waiting on a call for a new job which I’m 90% sure I’ll get. It doesn’t sound like much, but I think, as the beginning of my recovery phase, that’s a good start for tonight.