I can’t help it, I’ve become a cynic. I don’t know where it all started, probably with my friend Lauren at uni, who used cynicism and sarcasm in humorous perfection. Me though? At times I have to admit I’ve let it seep too much into my personality and I’ve become a bit of a pessimistic, negative grump.
Mr Moi and I often join in a laugh together, but it’s rare that I can actually make him laugh these days unless it’s a dry, wry hurumph at some cynical comment I made. So I was happy yesterday when
I think I managed to tickle his funny bone and elicit a good belly laugh from him.
Just post lunch, I departed the office and picked up Mr Moi as we were making the long and arduous journey to Darwin hospital for the 20 week morphology scan of the new Sprog.
On the way up Le Avenue De Bagot towards the hospital I was bitching and moaning to Mr Moi, in true me style, about how late I was running and how it’s impossible to find a carpark at the hospital (which is in the middle of Nowheresville, NT, but they won’t build more parking).
I explained to him my strategy.
“I know I go to work most days dressed like a forgetful hobo. But, you see, I have this theory that if you look like you’re going about business in a work sense, then people will think that you’re going about business in a work sense.
“The only carpark that is ever available at the hospital is the staff carpark, so I always go and park in there. Then I put on my work ID so that I look official and just strut purposefully across the carpark and into the hospital like I’m late for a Very Important Meeting.”
And boy was I surprised when this little comment borne from cynicism got a honest-to-goodness amused laugh as a result.
It’s times like that that I’m reminded of why Mr Moi must love me!