Why does the smell of Clementines always remind me instantly of the wooden train with open carriages we took as very young children from Palma to Soller?
Why is customer service in this country by and large rubbish and why do companies get away with it?
Why did a certain aftershave worn by a work colleague transport me back in a most unseemly fashion to a lost love of yesteryear and bring pangs and waves of nostalgia all day (he has promised never to wear it to work again…)
Why has the stumbled upon news that an old flame has recently married made me most discombobulated in a way I never expected?
Why did I manage to lose 9lbs in a month and then nothing more in the last week…(one of the all time questions at the top of many lists)?
Why is it that men faced with housework will invariably say ‘Oh yes, I was going to do that tomorrow’ and then never do it? Ever.
Why do the weekdays crawl by and the weekends fly as though with wings with never enough time to squish everything in to?
Why can you never see the bottom of the ironing basket?
Why isn’t Downton Abbey on twice a week every week like a good soap should be?
Why is gardening easier with Elbow in your ears?
Why do some folks find it so very hard to live and let live?
Why do men think that lycra is a good / acceptable look? EVER.
And what happened to bravery? Why are we so scared to say anything / offend / stand up for ourselves / brook an opinion / be controversial / do something different / step outside the box / embrace life / take chances / declare ourselves / be honest / be passionate / challenge things?
I’m off to lay down in a darkened room to consider…
Amberlife 