7 Reasons

Tag: Realisation

  • 7 Reasons Reccurring Dreams Are Annoying

    7 Reasons Reccurring Dreams Are Annoying

    I had a dream last night. And the other week. And last month. And the month before that. It’s getting boring now. Annoying even.

    Dreams are like rainbows. Only idiots chase them.

    1.  Repetition. As one may have established a reccurring dream is one that happens time after time after time. I suffer with one. It’s about me, back at school or university, with an impending deadline. The problem is, I haven’t even started doing my work. The scenario usually means I have twenty-four hours to write a dissertation. As dreams go, it is rubbish. I’d be annoyed if it happened once in a year, but to have it once every couple of weeks is just plain tiresome.

    2.  Panic. Despite the fact that it is a dream, I can’t help but get in panic. Though it’s an odd panic. In my dream I am not panicking. Which annoys me for starters, but it’s not half as annoying as the panic I feel in the sleeping me. As if I am watching my dream from above yet I am unable to control any of my actions. I want myself to panic, in much the same way as I want England to play good football. The more I want it though, the more I seem to laugh about the situation. In much the same way as the more I want England to play good football, the more Emile Heskey touches the ball.

    3.  Logic. Or should that be the lack of it. In last nights dream I appeared to be less interested in getting to the library to do my work and instead was solely focused on returning the ‘Automatic Putting Device’ to its home in the shed. No, I have no idea what an ‘Automatic Putting Device’ is either. Nor why it lives in a shed. In real-life I would like to think I would question such a thing, but in my dream state it was as natural to me as scratching my armpit.

    4.  Meaning. What does a reccurring dream about not doing your coursework mean? It’s not as if when I was at school or university I didn’t do my work and get it in on time. Well, not often anyway. So it’s not as if I am re-living my younger days and it’s not a metaphor for my attitude today. If I don’t have any work I can hardly hand it in late can I? It’s baffling.

    5.  People. None of my friends or family ever appear in my reccurring dreams, which seems somewhat ironic seeing as they are the reccurring characters in my life. Instead, I end up being friends with someone from school or university who I have never been friends with in my life. That’s not to say I disliked them, we just didn’t hang around together. In my dream though, we seem to do nothing but hang around together. Hang around together not doing our coursework and taking Automatic Putting Devices to sheds. Hardly the stuff of legend.

    6. Realisation. That moment when I wake up and realise it was all a dream. Again. I curse myself for being unable to dream about something more interesting. Cricket or tea or an opossum. And then I curse myself for not realising during the dream that I was dreaming. Why can’t I just recognise that I have been here before? Why can’t I wake myself up, turn over and think about Dame Edna Everage talking to her opossums? Why? Why can’t I?

    7. Resentment. They say the grass is always greener on the other side. Sometimes, this is ridiculously wide of the mark, but when it comes to me and my dreams, it is as true as the existence of you and me. If there is ever a conversation about dreams, I try and avoid it. I don’t want to listen to their tales of heroism and joviality. I get jealous. Why them? Why not me? Even more frustrating is when I am asked if I had a dream. I can only describe the feeling as one of loneliness and inadequacy. And it keeps me annoyed for the rest of the day.

  • 7 Reasons Picking Up The “For My Horny Boyfriend” Christmas Card Was A Mistake

    7 Reasons Picking Up The “For My Horny Boyfriend” Christmas Card Was A Mistake

    There are moments in our lives when we question our actions. For me, such a moment took place a few days ago. I was in a branch of a well-known national card selling establishment perusing the shelves for a suitable Christmas card to buy for my girlfriend. Being ‘in the zone’ I was unaware of my surroundings. And – in particular – the location of the boyfriend section. Being of the heterosexual kind, I prefer my woman to be a woman. And, in something of a triumph, my girlfriend is both. As a result I was not on the look out for a card addressed to a boyfriend. So when I inadvertently picked one up the other day, it was a mistake. A terrible mistake.

    7 Reasons Picking Up The "For My Horny Boyfriend" Christmas Card Was A Mistake
    This is not the actual card. I was hardly going to take a photo of the actual card was I?

    1.  Realisation. At first I felt a bit silly, but that feeling subsided very quickly once I realised exactly where I was. In a well known national card selling establishment. I froze. Were people around me? Was I being watched? Had this been captured on CCTV? What if it had? What if people had seen me browsing the girlfriend cards only to then move onto the horny boyfriend section? They’d think I was a slut!

    2.  Hesitation. Having stood, motionless, for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few seconds, I had a another problem. Anyone who had done the same would have realised their mistake and immediately put the card back. But I had paused. A pause that could easily be mistaken for contemplation. A fatal pause. Those people who thought I was a slut, now thought I was a serial adulterer!

    3.  Frustration. So now what do I do? Do I put the card back quietly and pretend* it was not what I was looking for or do I make a bit of a song and dance about it? Do I say, rather loudly, “Oops! I didn’t want that!”? You know, just so every knows exactly where I stand on the whole horny boyfriend thing. It certainly has it’s merits, but what if I overact it? What if I sound really, really camp? What if I am not believable. Those who thought I was a slut and then changed their minds to a serial adulterer will now think I’m in denial!

    4.  Contemplation. It must have been a minute now and I am still holding the card. What am I doing? And, hang on a second, why am I reading it? Why am I reading the words, ‘A naughty Christmas poem for my horny boyfriend‘? Why? Why am I doing this? And why am I not stopping? This is a poem for my boyfriend, who is always so horny and whose body… Argh! I must stop! Those who thought I was a slut come serial adulterer come man in denial now must think I am a pervert.

    5.  Determination. I know now that there are other people around me. I have men to the left of me looking at cards for their girlfriends and I have women to the right of me looking at cards for their boyfriends. I hold my ground on the join. I can’t buckle. I can’t throw my bags on the floor and begin sobbing. Mainly because I don’t have any bags, but also because it’s so bloody cold outside that all the moisture in my eyes has frozen. I’m going to get through this though. I pull the card closer to my chest so no one can see what I have picked up. I am just going to stand here until everyone has gone. Though those that originally thought I was a slut, a serial adulterer, a denialist and a pervert, now just think I am an idiot standing in their way.

    6.  Innovation. These people aren’t leaving! They just keep looking at other cards. It’s midday now. It’ll be dark soon. I’m going to have to be clever. I am going to have to put the card back without anyone noticing. So I pick up another card – one that is addressed ‘to my girlfriend’ before you ask – and I pretend to be interested in it. It’s bloody hideous so that doesn’t take long. Then, rather cleverly, I put it back with the horny boyfriend card underneath. And no one notices. Until the guy next to me picks the girlfriend card up which of course leaves the horny boyfriend card on display. He looks at me and I look at him. He doesn’t think I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert or an idiot. He thinks my girlfriend is a boy!

    7.  Affirmation. This is the point at which I realise I am in an awkward situation so I may as well make the best of it. Half the battle of a 7 Reasons writer, is to find the inspiration. Well here I was. With inspiration staring directly at me. No, not the man. He has moved on. I am staring at the card again. I am living a 7 Reasons post. All I had to do was remember exactly how I felt when I picked the card up in the first place. So I pick it up again and repeat the whole process. Now I don’t care who thinks I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert, an idiot or a ladyboy fetishist, because I know I am a genius. A rosey-red cheeked genius.

    *This is what a Horny Boyfriend card can do to you. You start pretending you don’t want the card that you didn’t want in the first place.

  • 7 Reasons foursquare And I Are Over

    7 Reasons foursquare And I Are Over

    If you have been a reader of 7 Reasons for a while now, you may remember that at the beginning of August, I (that’s me, Jon) decided to sign up to the new social media kid on the block that is foursquare. It didn’t start too well and as you may recall I predicted foursquare and I were going to have a tricky relationship. Now, I’m sure you’ve been wondering how on earth we are getting on. Well, seven weeks on, we catch up with myself and foursquare to find out.

    7 Reasons foursquare and I Are Over

    1.  Neglect. To be fair, there has been little contact or indeed effort from either party. I haven’t logged into my foursquare account once since I joined and foursquare hasn’t once bothered emailing me to ask why I have not logged into my account since I joined. Evidently we both have better things to do with our time. I certainly do. Playing with my hair etc.

    2.  Affair. We both had one. In fact, for the past seven weeks I have been having regular threesomes with twitter and facebook. They seem to like it and I feel strangely clean about the whole thing, so it’s win win. You may have a different point of view, but before you judge me and accuse me of being dirty, may I remind you that foursquare has three million users plugged into her. Potentially all at the same time.

    3.  Financial Resentment. It’s not that fact that I mind foursquare being worth $80 million – which on latest calculations is just quite a way over $79 million more than I am – it’s the fact that they flaunt it. ‘Woohoo!’ they shout. ‘Come and invest in me!’ There is just no need for it. I don’t go running up and down the street shouting, ‘Woohoo! Come and pay off my student loan!’ do I? No, I don’t. I’d get some very funny looks from some very funny looking cats.

    4.  Bullying. This one is on me. I put the foursquare app into my iPhone social media folder – yes, I have one of those because I am a hipster – and then I teased it. By this I don’t mean I played hide and seek with it – although I suppose I did in a way everytime I put my phone in my pocket – but I kept hovering my finger over it and then chose twitter or facebook instead. Did I feel bad? Not really. The foursquare icon never said, ‘Touch me baby’. Aesthetically speaking.*

    5.  Nagging. Not by me. But by foursquare. It forever wanted to know where I was. ‘What are you doing? Where are you doing it? Why are you doing it? How are you doing it? Oooh, I wouldn’t have done it like that’. Just shut up and go away. This is my life and I will do whatever I like, where I like it, for seven of my own reasons, in a manner I feel happy with. Unless my girlfriend or my mum tell me otherwise.

    6.  Sexual Incompatibility. I won’t go into this too much, but I was rubbish. To be honest, my heart wasn’t in it. And, if it was, I’d have been doing it very, very wrong indeed. I know that much.

    7.  Realisation. Mark Zuckerburg. You know the guy, he created that facebook thing. Last week his company opened up the world of ‘places’ for all facebook users. So now we can tell all of our ‘friends’ just where we are. As a result I now know when friend A is at work, when friend B is on the platform at a certain train station and when friend C is on the toilet. Quite frankly, this is all too much information. And it is exactly the kind of thing foursquare specializes in. As disappointing as this will sound, the truth is, I really don’t care where you are or what you’re doing – unless you owe me a lot of money. And to be honest, I only have time not to care once. Consequently I have decided not to care via the medium of facebook and thus shall be shutting my foursquare account down with immediate effect.

    *My finest oxymoron yet.