Nice day. England won the cricket; I cleaned the living room while they did so, so I feel good about that; dogs had a marvellous meet-up with friends as always.

So let’s think about a tiny speck that rubs under my psyche all too often. Are other people having a better time than me ?

When I’m chatting to people with whom I am friendly (that’s as much as I’m usually willing to say) I hear them talk about times in recent days when they have met up with others I know. Clearly I have no reasonable expectation to be part of every such meeting.

But I can’t help but allow myself to worry that am very rarely part of such meetings. It could just be that I’m not the right age / gender / interest-sharer to suit the gathering that took place. Although eventually one starts to wonder if there are any others out there who are a good match for me, or maybe they’re all in secure accommodation by now !

Meh. It’s a niggle. It’s there. It’s real, but I don’t know big of a deal it either is, or should be allowed to be. We shall see.