Caffeine Bomb

I have a love/hate relationship with coffee - or more accurately caffeine.

It all started when I drank approximately a gallon of coffee to help me cram in all of the knowledge in my notes the night before my very last exam at university. Usually I was well prepared but a mixture of laziness and arrogance forced me to spend most of the entire night reading and rereading reams of notes in the hope that some of it stuck.

Caffeine didn’t help me. On the contrary, I think it made the situation worse.

The coffee certainly kept me awake but my brain was totally and utterly fried and I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Sadly my ability to retain facts and apply logic flew out of the window and headed south. That was the worst exam I ever sat. After the initial panic was over, I somehow managed to struggle through dredging my memory to scribble down vague facts related to the subject at hand.

I passed – barely.

As a kid I rarely drank coffee. I would have a cup to force myself awake for a newspaper round at 6am in the morning, but apart from that I was a tea junky. I didn’t actually realise that tea contains a fairly large quantity of caffeine too - that's how stupid I was.

I have always loved my tea to be so strong that I can stand a spoon up in it. I leave the teabag in the cup for as long as possible so that all of the flavour – and caffeine – drains into the hot water.  Yet paradoxically I cannot stand strong coffee.

I remember my first trip to Europe way back in the early 1980’s. My travelling companion at the time was a coffee addict who drank his caffeine bombs by the bucket load. We spent loads of time in coffee shops in Amsterdam drinking the strongest coffee I had had to that point. The taste stayed in my mouth for a couple of hours until it was time to grab the next one. When people ask me how I felt about my first trip abroad, I used to say “the beer and food tasted of coffee and I barely got any sleep at all.”

Amsterdam? No sleep at all? Yes – but not for the obvious reason. I was so high on caffeine that I mutated into a gibbering wreck.

My brain was overstimulated but my body was completely exhausted. My brain wanted me run around like a madman but had no idea how to channel the energy into something constructive. The conversations went something like this:

BRAIN: QUICK!! WE NEED TO DO STUFF!!

BODY: Yeah – sleep!

BRAIN: NOOOOOO!!! SLEEP IS FOR ARSES!!! GET UP AND DO STUFF!!!

BODY: Do what? I’m exhausted.

BRAIN: I DON’T KNOW – JUST DO STUFF!!!

Coincidentally, the first time I worked abroad was also in Amsterdam, and my Dutch colleagues used to constantly supply me with huge mugs filled to the brim with potent coffee. I somehow survived on around four hours sleep a night for the entire week I was there.

Gradually as I got older, I started to feel the effects of caffeine more. The tipping point was when I found myself in a bar in Manchester around fifteen years ago with a few friends who insisted on sharing a pitcher of Red Bull and vodka. Until that point I had no idea what Red Bull was and naively thought it was some kind of weird mixer for boring old vodka.

I do not drink spirits but on this occasion I succumbed to peer pressure and had a fair amount. Inevitably I was slightly the worst for wear, noticeably drunk but there was something else wrong. I felt alive and buzzing, so much so that I was actually shaking.

I arrived home, desperate for sleep but lay tossing and turning on the bed with my brain and body completely and utterly wired. I think I eventually passed out at around seven o’clock in the morning some five hours after arriving home.

Red Bull gives you wings indeed – the stuff is lethal!

So why am I blithering on about caffeine?

The reason is that for the past year or two I have seriously cut down on my caffeine intake. I have even purchased decaffeinated tea – which is not exactly the best thing in the world but still infinitely better than the swill you get in Europe and America.

I still drink full fat totally caffeinated tea at the weekend but during the week my sole drink of choice at work is decaffeinated coffee.

I have had some abuse for this. One guy said:

“Why on earth do you drink decaffeinated coffee? Coffee tastes like shit and the only good thing about it is the BUZZ you get. It gets me through the day. Drinking decaffeinated tea is like drinking alcohol free beer – totally pointless.”

Nevertheless, I actually feel better for it. I sleep better and I am reasonably calm at work instead of being so wired that I run around like a demented lunatic.

Some people say that coffee helps the true executive to function correctly, keeping his mind sharp and focussed so that he can be bulletproof. Mr Motivator cannot live without his coffee.

So what does caffeine actually do that makes Mr Motivator so dependent on it? Caffeine actually blocks chemical signals in your brain that tell you how sleepy you are and thus kick starts your mind when really, perhaps, it should be feeling sleepy. I think we all know this especially if we are coffee connoisseurs or Red Bull addicts. However, as well as telling your brain that you should be awake instead of asleep, caffeine enhances mental ability, which is where Mr Motivator comes in.

“I need my caffeine to function at 200%!” says Mr Motivator.

Your body can successfully break down caffeine within a few hours so perhaps my mistake when I sat my final exam was not to drink a monstrous caffeine bomb comprised of Red Bull, caffeine pills and espresso.

Well I can function without it. My mind is clear and relaxed and I don’t end up buzzing around like a wired wasp.

Having cut down severely on my caffeine intake, I find that I am still reasonably agile mentally which is good because I don’t really miss it. I still love my tea and I can channel my energy into something useful. I have no problem staying up later though I don’t drink tea after 5 pm and usually end up falling asleep around midnight in front of Match of the Day or that late movie I really wanted to watch.

And I sleep a lot better when I finally do nod off at the end of the day.

I think I could actually live without caffeine in my life at all.

How about you, dear reader? 

Can you function without full fat coffee or tea?

Is caffeine a help or a hindrance to you?

And have you ever grown wings through drinking Red Bull?

I have to say, speaking about Red Bull, that it is absolutely disgusting. The taste is abhorrent even when tainted with vodka.

What on earth was I thinking? That is exactly the drunken thought that raced around my head for five hours in the wee small hours of that fateful night - and how disgusting Red Bull tastes.

Beware - Man Flu

I’ve got man flu. Well - to be honest - I am just recovering from an extremely nasty bout and I have found the strength to crawl to my keyboard to tell you about it.

Yes, I know that if you are a female reader you are probably rolling your eyes, shaking your head and tutting in disbelief. I imagine that you are also picturing a scenario similar to this:

If you are then shame on you. I have been poorly – very poorly.

Honestly!

On Monday I went to work and started sniffling and coughing slightly. On Tuesday, my sinuses were completely blocked and my head felt like somebody had stuffed tons of cotton wool into it through my ears and nose.

My throat felt as if somebody had forced my mouth open and sandblasted my gullet with maximum prejudice. At lunchtime I had to visit the dentist so I somehow dragged myself to my car and drove to have my teeth examined by a man who I feared needed a new set of golf clubs and would therefore find something wrong.

As I sat in his chair with my mouth open, ready for the invasion of metal objects he said “I’m sorry if I sniffle, I have a bout of man flu.”

His assistant – a woman – scoffed and tutted. I could feel her eyes watching us as he probed my teeth with his vicious dental instruments while telling me about how bad his sinuses were. We compared notes about our illnesses at the end as his assistant stormed out to the hygienist – another woman who I was due to see next – with the words “OH PURLEEESSE!” echoing from her disbelieving lips.

The hygienist had no sympathy. As she scraped my teeth she moaned and moaned.

“He’s been going on about his sinuses all morning. For God’s sake – IT’S ONLY A COLD!”

“But it’s man flu,” I said with my mouth full of more vicious instruments, so that it sounded more like “BUURRGGGHHHHH EEESSSSSSSS BAAAAANNNN BOOOOOOOO”.

I left with teeth scraped and polished. The hygienist shook her head and said “Men! Honestly!”

On my return to work, a work colleague said I sounded so bad that I should go home. I survived until four o’clock and drove home in the wind and rain feeling extremely sorry for myself and expecting nothing but trauma from Mrs PM when I arrived home.

And then it got worse. I found myself shivering and sweating at the same time and my head felt like it was going to explode. My throat felt like the driest desert on Mars and my hacking cough sounded like the noise made by a rabid monster. I was sneezing so much that I managed to use three whole toilet rolls.

I had no strength to protect myself from a rampant Liquorice, our beloved hellcat, who was using my hand to exercise her already formidable jaw.

Mrs PM was very sympathetic. She cooked my tea did her best to protect me from the cat. The only thing she couldn’t do was go to the toilet for me.

At 9pm I had had enough. I crawled upstairs and fell into bed in a heap.

I hoped that a good night of rest and slumber would defeat the man flu; it didn’t.

I awoke feeling even worse. Mrs PM jumped out of bed and rushed to work with no sign of illness whatsoever, leaving me to fester in a pit of self-pity and debility.

I called in sick, my first day off work due to illness for at least three years.

And I tell you what, dear reader.

If you are ill and off work, don’t you feel guilty?

Why is that?

I barely had the strength to crawl downstairs, fight off the hellcat and make myself a Lemsip before slumping on the sofa with a duvet and a remote control – yet I felt that I should be in work passing my germs to all the male members of the office (because we all know that women don’t get man flu).

Does man flu addle your brain that much?

Back in my sickbed (or more accuratley sick sofa) I watched three movies and was bored out of my brain.

The Lemsip helped and I had perked up by the evening, enough to be able to find my gloves and defend myself against Liquorice, who by now had started boasting about “the biggest prey she had ever felled”.

By bedtime I was much better and this morning I was well enough to go back to work.

All my male colleagues had sympathy. Female colleagues rolled their eyes and muttered “Men, honestly!”.

I spoke to my boss who told me that “Man flu is no myth”.

I decided to investigate this. I discovered an article that suggested that scientists have discovered that manly men, i.e. those with high levels of testosterone, have a weaker immune system and are therefore more susceptible than women to a whole range of bacterial and viral infections.

Dear female reader - note the words: "more susceptible than women to a whole range of bacterial and viral infections."

So there is proof that man flu really does exist.

And I am recovering from it and have the strength (and testosterone) to be able to tell you about by the media of a very silly but painfully true blog post.

Guys – I know you know how I feel and sympathise.

Ladies – you need to be kinder to your man when he catches this evil little man flu bug.

He really is ill – honestly.

And if I catch you shaking your head and rolling your eyes, I will set my hellcat on you.

England Rocks!

This post deserves a soundtrack so press play on the following clip:

The song is England Rocks by Joe Elliot’s Down N Outz. Joe Elliot is of course better known as the lead singer of Def Leppard.

This post is a celebration of my wonderful country – England – the biggest country in the United Kingdom. I am proud to be BOTH British and English so really this post is also about every part of the United Kingdom – however I can’t deny that England is my favourite part.

Although I have travelled the world, I always look forward to returning home to a country where the weather is always a subject of conversation simply because we all complain about it. We’re never happy with the weather here. In the winter it is too cold and wet and in the summer it is too cold and wet. Even when we had a wonderful July, last year, with day after day of wonderful sunshine and heat, some people moaned that it was too hot.

We grumble a lot to be honest but we do so with a hint of self-deprecation and in a humorous way that most other countries typically don’t understand. As a nation we are funny, choosing to laugh at ourselves and other people. Our use of humour, sarcasm and self-deprecation is arguably one of our most appealing characteristics.

And I love that.

There are many other things I love too – such as the widespread accents. For example, Liverpool and Manchester are only just over 30 miles apart (around 50 km) yet the accents are completely different as illustrated by John Bishop, a comedian from Liverpool, and Jason Manford, a Mancunian comedian:

I’m from Walsall, around 70 miles from Manchester, and this is what I sounded like for the first 18 years of my life:

Did you understand any of that? My accent is now “neutral” but having lived in Walsall, Liverpool and Manchester there are elements of all three when I speak. Of course, these aren’t the only accents in England and if you include our Welsh, Scottish and Irish brethren the number increases dramatically.

One of my aims over the next few years is to explore more of Britain. We have such history here and sometimes we don’t appreciate what we have on our own doorstep. I’ve travelled to places like New York, Moscow, Sydney, Hong Kong, Beijing and Johannesburg, yet I have never been to places like Oxford, Cambridge, the Cotswolds, Loch Ness, Belfast or any parts of Scotland outside Glasgow and Edinburgh.

That fills me with a sense of shame and I aim to do something about it.

The countryside in Britain is phenomenal and our cities are full of history. In the summertime on a brilliantly sunny day, the rolling hills of the British countryside are a beautiful sight to behold.

Here are a few photos from my collection that illustrate what a fantastic country I live in:

England winning at cricket in Nottingham. The less said about cricket the better given recent events in Australia!

Street Party in Manchester (Diamond Jubilee)

Manchester Town Hall - or should that be City Hall?

"It's hot with this animal on my head"

Whitby

Let's Have a Beer

Tower Bridge

The Queen lives here

A House full of politicians

Newcastle at dusk

Another thing I love about my country are the people themselves. Despite rumours that we are cold and unfriendly and walk around with an air of arrogance and the typical “stiff upper lip” mentality, we are funny, friendly and warm. Some of us may be reserved but when we let our hair down there are few nations that can enjoy themselves as much as we do.

Of course there are exceptions, like Piers Morgan, Simon Cowell, Katie Price, Jamie Oliver, Boris Johnson, Gary Barlow and most politicians and the stereotypical “Englishman abroad” can be guilty of portraying us as arrogant, insular thugs but I like to think that most of us are like me; nice guys who are willing to embrace other cultures.

Finally, we have given the world some of the greatest music of the last five decades. I am fortunate enough to have been alive during a period when British bands from The Beatles to Led Zeppelin, from The Rolling Stones to Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath to The Sex Pistols have dominated world music and have been responsible for huge movements in the musical world influencing some of my favourite bands from other parts of the world.
I’ll leave you with one of my favourite songs by The Beatles.

England really does rock – and so does Britain.

Goodbye 2013

2013 is almost over and it has become a tradition to dust off an old meme that summarises the previous year.

Please feel free to steal it yourself. I won’t tell if you don’t.

As usual, this is quite a long post so just in case you get bored, I will wish you all a Happy New Year right at the start, and I hope that 2014 brings all of your dreams to fruition.

Let’s dive in, shall we?

1. What did you do in 2013 that you'd never done before?

I fulfilled a travel ambition this year. I finally visited a country that I have always wanted to visit: Japan.

I am currently part way through a travelogue on my experiences there – and believe me there are a lot of them. I plan to sum them up in a series of posts in the coming months.

All I can say is that I absolutely loved the place – so much so that we plan to return in a few years’ time.

As well as visiting Japan, I also visited two new countries. Mrs PM and I visited Budapest in Hungary for a long weekend and I enjoyed three trips to Muscat in Oman (when I say “enjoyed” I mean that I endured the work aspect but enjoyed the rest).

Here are some snaps from Japan:

Busiest crossing in Tokyo

An attempt to fry my brain at the Robot Restaurant

The Japanese Plastic Mancunian

Mount Fuji

Half a bullet train

Thousands of torii in Kyoto

2. Did you keep your New Years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Yes and no. Here are last year’s resolutions:

(a) At least TRY to write that elusive book.

I was going to try writing a novel in November but work commitments made that impossible. 

However I am writing a travelogue for Japan and have produced another “volume” of blog posts from this very blog. I am now up to five volumes and producing volume six as I type. 

Next year? I hope to complete the travelogue and, work permitting, have another go at writing a novel in November. 

(b) Learn Spanish to the point where I can talk to Spaniards without a dictionary.

My Spanish has improved a fair amount and I am thinking about actually enrolling in a proper course. I can vaguely understand some written Spanish and need to keep plugging away. I am enjoying it.

(c) Cycle to work at least twice a week (when the weather improves).

I have failed miserably on this promise but I did dig out the bike for a couple of trips around the local area. This is something I simply must do this year.

(d) And this year? 

I will attempt to strengthen the three resolutions above but I have another planned that I will reveal in future posts if I succeed. Watch this space.

3. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?

We will be heading for this pub in West Didsbury:

The Metropolitan

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Thankfully nobody close died this year.

5. What countries did you visit?

I visited Spain, Oman, Hong Kong, Japan, Hungary and Turkey.

6. What would you like to have in 2014 that you lacked in 2013?

I have kind of identified something but I don’t really want to reveal it on this blog – just yet anyway. That’s part of my secret resolution.

Of course, I still want to defeat the lingering stubborn procrastination that haunts me continually as well as somehow managing to correctly predict the winning lottery numbers.

Usual stuff really.

7. What date from 2013 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

No single dates stand out this year.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Visiting Japan without a doubt. I have wanted to travel there since I started exploring the planet and I finally made it. 

9. What was your biggest failure?

Failing to ride a bike to work.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I suffered quite a nasty cold last month that lasted for about three weeks. For some reason I couldn’t shake the bloody thing. I wasn’t the only one though. It travelled around my workplace like wildfire and we had a month or so of constant coughing and sneezing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Being a geek I wanted a tablet – even though I didn’t really need one. Rather than splashing out on an iPad, I opted for a Nexus 7, smaller and more compact. 

However, I find now that I can’t really live without it. It was a constant companion on my travels, acting as an entertainment device in Oman allowing me to watch movies in my hotel room after a long days’ work as well as providing me with a portable phrase book and guide book in Japan.

I would recommend one as a lightweight portable computer, book and media device, particularly if you travel a lot.

12. Where did most of your money go?

My kids tend to demand money and so does the house. Nothing changed in that respect in 2013.

13. What song will always remind you of 2013?

2013 was a fantastic year for music and once again I bought a fist full of wonderful CDs. Here are my favourite songs from my top five albums of the year.

(a) Joe Satriani – Shine On American Dreamer (from the album Unstoppable Momentum)

I regard Joe Satriani as the greatest guitar player in the world and each album release is a major event for me. His new album is, as usual, a superb collection of songs. This particular one is a classic driving song and all I can think of when listening to it is driving across America in a convertible on a beautiful sunny day with the wind running through my hair and a huge grin on my face. If you like good classic feelgood rock songs, follow the link.

(b) The Black Spiders – Balls (from the album This Savage Land)

I saw the Black Spiders a couple of years ago, supporting Airbourne and from the first notes of the first song I loved them. They play no nonsense hard rock music that is extremely catchy. I have seen them twice as a support act and both times they have challenged their hosts. Balls is from their second album and I expect great things from them in years to come. 

Follow the link if you like good driving catchy hard rock.

 (c) Dream Theater – The Enemy Inside (from the album Dream Theater)  

Dream Theater are masters of progressive metal and their albums feature songs that are typically over ten minutes long and are genuine masterpieces. Their new album is the usual high standard and while it features mostly shorter songs (of the order of six minutes) there is an opus that is 22 minutes long. Fear not – the link takes you to a song that is just over six minutes. If you like heavy progressive metal then follow the link.

(d) Nine Inch Nails – Copy Of A (from the album Hesitation Marks)

Trent Reznor is an Oscar winning genius. He won an Oscar for the soundtrack to the film “The Social Network” and, thankfully, this year he has returned to doing what he does best – Nine Inch Nails – electronic music with a dark edge. Hesitation Marks is a triumph and in the month or two since I have had it, it has barely left my playlist. I have been witnessed driving my car listening to this song bopping away in the front seat and singing loudly without a care about who else sees me and laughs.

If you like electronic music with a hint of rock guitar then follow the link.

(e) Steven Wilson – Drive Home (from the album The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories)

The album of the year is a progressive masterpiece from Steven Wilson and this is the best song on the album. It is a truly sad song about a man who lost his wife in a car accident and is so totally tormented with guilt that he cannot get over his wife’s death. The theme of the album is ghosts and in this case, the man’s dead wife intervenes from beyond the grave. The song is simply beautiful and brings a tear to my eye each time I hear it. If you follow the link, you will not only hear a truly emotional song but also see a very poignant accompanying video. The song is right up there with my favourites of all time.

14. What do you wish you'd done more of?

I wish I’d written more blog posts. This year I have averaged a post a week and as far as the blog is concerned it has been my least productive year so far. I will try to change that next year. 

15. What do you wish you'd done less of?

I wish I had wasted less time doing mundane boring things. I really should make more of an effort sometimes.

16. What was your favourite TV program?

Once again, TV has been great this year. Here are a few to mention:

The Walking Dead, Dexter, True Blood, Game of Thrones, 

Falling Skies, Warehouse 13, Revolution, The Tunnel, The Following, Sleepy Hollow, Under the Dome and many more.

A special mention has to go to the 50th anniversary of Dr Who and the demise of Matt Smith as the Doctor on Christmas Day. Two absolutely brilliant episodes.

17. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

There are people who have annoyed me, sure – but “hate” is too strong a word.

18. What was the best book you read?

I’m going to name two books, one the sequel to the other:

Hyperion and The Fall of Hyperion by Dan Simmons. I look forward to reading two more sequels this year.

I just have to say, though, that I am quite sad at the passing of Iain Banks. I love his science fiction novels.

19. What was your greatest musical discovery?

No new bands have crossed my radar this year.

20. What was your favourite film of this year?

I enjoyed Man of Steel and World War Z but my favourite movie was Star Trek: Into Darkness.

Well what do you expect from a closet Trekker?

21. What did you do on your birthday?

Nothing special. I went to work and then had a nice meal with Mrs PM.

22. What kept you sane?

I’ve had an extremely busy year at work but, as usual, I haven’t actually allowed it to get the better of me. I would once again like to thank the usual suspects: Mrs PM, blogging, beer, food, music and travelling to Japan for de-stressing me.

23. Who did you miss?

Nobody leaps to mind.

24. Who was the most interesting new person you met?

Probably the drunk Japanese gentleman who bought Mrs PM and I, what he regarded as the best piece of sushi in Kyoto. He spoke no English and we spoke no Japanese so communication was fun. He tried to persuade us to go on a bar crawl around his city but we had a bullet train to catch. 

25. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2013.

It is almost impossible to take a photograph of a Japanese Bullet Train roaring full speed through a station.

The Meaning of Life - Don't Worry - Be Happy!

Some people think that I am a grumpy old man and there is evidence that supports that fact.

 I have a tendency to moan about certain aspects of life, usually involving absurdity, stupidity, injustice and the bizarre obsessions of certain groups of people who try to enforce their views and lifestyle choices on me.

However, beneath that grumpy façade, lies an extremely happy middle-aged man who has used his experience to construct a reasonable existence. Life has tried its best to deflect me from a path to happiness and contentment but I have recovered enough to find myself in a good place.

I find that having a positive view on life helps.

There have been occasions when it has been difficult and I have learned to try to discover the positive aspects of such experiences. It doesn’t always work but most of the time it does.

I can spend my time moaning about my job for example, but in the end it has enabled me to travel and it pays the bills.

Like most people, life has had its turbulent moments for me but I try to remember the good times in the past rather than dwelling on those negative moments. I love chatting about past experiences with friends and family. Reminiscing about past events is therapeutic if you don’t start wondering what would have happened if things had been different. Another way to travel to the past is through music. Music plays a huge part in my life and songs can behave like a time machine to whisk me back into the past to a moment of pleasure.

Music is a personal thing for me and on those occasions when I do start feeling a little bit down, I can select a suitable song and immediately lighten my mood.

For example, here’s a song that reminds me of working in Hong Kong with Mrs PM:

Here’s a song that reminds me of university:

This is one of the main reasons I refuse to discard old CD’s. To me they are as valuable as the TARDIS is to Dr Who.

As long as there is music, there is happiness.

I also love to experience life and for me travelling fulfils a burning need within me. Mr Motivator (the businessman who wants to be the best of the best of the best) will tell you that the way to happiness is through material possessions, a huge house, an enormous car and a high powered position in the rat race, working as many hours in the day as possible.

While that may be true for him, I find that I enjoy living in a modest house with a modest car but the ability to spend my money on trips to Japan, America, Australia and as many other parts of the world as I can. I gain more pleasure thinking about strolling around Red Square in Moscow in the middle of winter than watching the latest films on a 73 inch TV in a huge room in the back of my huge house.

I would rather spend £12000 on a round the world trip than splash out on a brand new car.

Sorry Mr Motivator – but that’s a fact.

Nevertheless, if Mr Motivator is happiest filling his enormous house with trinkets and gadgets then that's okay with me. I don’t think any less of him (as long as he doesn’t try to impose his doctrine on me) and as long as he is happy then I am happy too.

In other words, seeing other people being happy gives me a buzz, even if I am not directly responsible for their happiness. The greatest happiness for me is seeing Mrs PM laughing and smiling and my two lads enjoying life with huge grins on their faces.

Generally they are all as content as I am. My boys share the same outlook on life as me, with slightly different likes and dislikes of course and Mrs PM and I are kindred spirits (if you discount her dreadful taste in music of course).

And with Christmas fast approaching, I feel more content than ever. Yes, I will moan about shops being full, the miserable weather, the Queen’s speech, the cost of everything and having to eat too much. I will almost certainly curse the enforced diet I have to endure in January when my overstuffed and bloated body resembles a massive turkey.

Nevertheless, Christmas really does open a new door to happiness: lots of gatherings, parties and joy all around.

I may end up slobbed out on the sofa, trying to stay awake for the Dr Who Christmas special, resembling a bizarre caricature of Father Christmas as I eat another mince pie and quaff another can of beer – but I will have a huge smile on my face.

Finally, here are a couple more upbeat songs that help put me in a good mood.

Here is a guilty pleasure from two guys who like so much like me they could be my brothers. It sums up how I try to approach life.

If I don’t post again before Christmas (which is likely) I’d like to wish all readers, whether you are a regular visitor or just happened to stumble of this post, a very Happy and Merry Christmas.

I hope that Father Christmas brings you everything you want.

The Meaning of Life - The Grim Reaper

The fourth part of my mini-series on the meaning of life was going to cover happiness, leaving death until the end. However, Christmas is approaching faster than a speeding Santa so happiness is a fitting topic to finish on.

Sadly this means I have to discuss death now.

Death is a nasty part of life – which is kind of weird really because death means the end of life. Some people become preoccupied with death in the later stages of life and become obsessed with it.

I hope that doesn’t happen to me.

I have faced death in a major way, as regular readers may know, when I watched my father die at the tender age of 44. Obviously that was a traumatic event which time helped to cure. The problem was that because his death was so unexpected and so sudden that it planted a seed of anxiety that lay dormant until I approached the same age.

Reason was cast aside and for a whole year, a part of me expected my own life to come to an abrupt and meaningless end. The feeling was totally irrational and while it didn’t dominate my life, I found my thoughts drifting towards the Grim Reaper more times than I would have hoped for.

My 45th birthday was a great day because to me it meant the end of what I described as the year of death. I felt like I had reached the finish line of a great race.

Looking back now, some seven years later, I have no such fears and I can’t believe the thought ever crossed my mind. Furthermore, I really ought to be worrying about it more because I am older and, realistically, closer to the day when the Grim Reaper comes knocking to collect me.

And I can’t help but wonder why that is.

Death is the inescapable conclusion to life and, unless you have discovered the secret of immortality or are a vampire, it will happen to you.

Why worry about it?

There is no reason.

Life is great and when the time comes, it will come; there is nothing you can do about it.

What’s more, death may not be the end. The premise of most religions is that death is merely a transition to a higher plane of existence – or possibly even the chance to pop back to Earth as another person or another creature.

As a Catholic, I have been indoctrinated by the premise that when I die, I will be judged and, having been a naughty boy (and I have been a naughty boy), I will suffer the consequences in Purgatory before joining the legions of the dead in Heaven in eternal happiness.

I could go to Hell of course and spend the rest of eternity being tortured and tormented by demonic forces. My punishment would almost certainly involve being locked in a cell with Piers Morgan with diabolical pop music blaring out of speakers at a high volume.

Reincarnation seems a reasonable option – if options are available. Wouldn’t it be fantastic to be born again as another person and live another life? Of course, it might already have happened and I may have been a slave in Pompeii, or a jester in the court of Henry VIII or an explorer sailing towards America with Christopher Columbus.

Apparently it is possible to be hypnotised and drift back through your past lives. I am tempted to have a go at this but I am too sceptical and realistically I imagine my “past life” will come from a historical novel I have read or a blockbuster movie.

Other options exist; what about the science fiction concept that death is just a way of entering a new plane of existence? When we shuffle off this mortal coil, do we shed our old bodies and float off into space in an alternative reality?

Or the idea that we all drift off and continue to prevail in death? In the Necroscope series of books, when people die, they exist in a different form and continue their life’s work in death.

Apart from Hell with Piers Morgan, most of the alternatives sound appealing in one way or another.

And being a positive person, I would like to think that there is something more. The scientist within me is very sceptical and informs me that we will simply cease to be. After all, we don’t remember anything from before we were born do we?

I have no memory of anything before October 1962, my birth month. I suspect the reality is that I will return to that emptiness.

But I may be wrong.

Death could be the beginning of a brand new adventure.

Finally, please excuse the morbid tone of this post but people can’t talk about death without some negative overtones.

To cheer you up a bit, here are a couple of funny videos relating to death:

The Meaning of Life - Sector 7-G

Some people work to live; others live to work.

I am definitely in the “work to live” camp for the simple reason that to me, work is more like a punishment. I have been in my chosen career for almost thirty years and while interesting, fascinating and captivating at first, my job has become a major chore.

As I get older, I want more freedom. Some people want that freedom when they are younger which is why they delay leaping into the rat race for year or so to go travelling and explore the world. I did a little bit of travelling as a student but now I simply have an almost overwhelming desire to pack in my job and simply leave on a huge trip of exploration and self-discovery.

While I may curse my chosen career, I can’t deny that my job has encouraged me to do this.

Why?

Because my job involves travelling the world – not all of the time – but enough to give me a small taste of freedom.

In fact, I am off on my travels again this weekend, my third visit to Oman this year.

You may think that I am a hypocrite; I have a job that allows me to visit other countries and cultures. I love travelling - so why the bloody hell am I moaning?

Allow me to explain.

First of all, I work in IT – basically I spend my entire day sparring with technology. And I am bored with it.

Second, the majority of my life is spent sitting at a desk in front of a laptop surrounded by people who are equally disillusioned and frustrated and at the mercy of decisions and developments governed by Mr Motivation as he does his best to climb to the top of the corporate ladder.

Finally, while I may get the option to travel to wonderful and interesting countries, I am effectively limited to trips between the hotel and the office with very little chance to explore and only tantalising glimpses of what I could be doing if I were free of the shackles.

I am in a Catch 22 situation; I need money to fulfill my desires – and I need to work to get the money – and the work stops me from fulfilling my desires.

And this is true of most people.

The solution is simple; find a career that you enjoy, a career that makes you smile with glee when you wake up and anticipate the joy of work.  It seems to be too late for me now.

Some people may suggest that it is not too late but to those people I ask this: how can I change career when I can’t really do anything else?

I am risk averse and simply giving up what many people would consider to be a thriving, interesting and beneficial career in search of something else that will give me freedom and enjoyment, but with the same financial clout, would be absolute folly.

So I appear to be in a rut – and I can’t escape.

Outside work, I am very content and happy; when I am at work my life becomes a jumble of confusion, chaos and irritation. There are times when I get a buzz out of work but such times are becoming more infrequent.

And it would be just the same if I were to seek another job in IT in another company. At least the one I am in offers some form of sanctuary with occasional trips abroad. That’s what keeps me there.

Through my job I have visited places like Holland, the Caribbean, the United States, Canada, China, South Africa, Russia, Switzerland, Singapore and Hong Kong. I have become so enamoured with travel that I have visited many other varied and interesting places under my own volition, places such as Japan, Thailand, most of Europe and Australia.

If it weren't for my job, I would never have got together with Mrs PM in Hong Kong. I have a lot to be grateful for.

And it is now that I know what my ideal job would be; a travel writer.

There are drawbacks with that career, it has to be said.

First of all I have to be a good writer – I’m not.

Second I have to be able to fund numerous trips abroad – I can’t.

If I could see my time again, I would change my career choice and become a writer, training to actually improve the words I spill onto a page so that they make pleasurable and interesting reading instead of the inane twaddle that finds its way onto this blog.

The problem is that when you are young, you don’t know what you want; I alluded to this in a post about my schooldays last month.

Of course, another option is to work out a way to beat the system and win the lottery. The problem is that I have a logical, mathematical mind with a degree in computational and statistical science – and I know that the chances of my winning the lottery are about as close to zero as you can get.

You can’t plan a career on the off chance that you might win the lottery – despite what the lottery organisers tell you.

So, unless you know what you want to do and are passionate about doing it at an early age, when you can be trained and steered in the right direction before it’s too late, you will end up just like me, stuck in a rut in a stagnating career that provides money to live and perhaps give you a little enjoyment with a tiny taste of what your career might have been had you made the right choices as a kid.

That sounds depressing doesn’t it? And it makes me sound unhappy as well.

However, I’m not unhappy really – on the contrary – I am delighted with life.

I am also an optimist – I can’t help it – and I am still clinging onto the dream that one day circumstances might change in such a way that I can alter my vocation and wake up full of elation because I am going to work.

Anyway, I will discuss happiness in the next post to give you an insight on why I am happy despite moaning about my academic and occupational choices in life.

One day you might see a book on a shelf in your local bookstore with a picture of a grinning Plastic Mancunian called: The World Through My Eyes.

I can dream - can't I?

Don’t hold your breath though.

How about you dear reader?

Are you happy in your chosen career? 

Do you want to do something else?

Do you think it is too late for me to leave the rat race and unleash myself onto the world?

Any tips for doing just that?