Basket Case

Another lyric post!

I’ve been doing the ’30 Day Song Challenge’ over on my Facebook and today’s was ‘a song from your favourite band’. This was quite hard for me, ‘cos I don’t actually have a favourite band as such. I likes what I likes. But I really like Green Day, so I went with this.

And in the car coming home, I did the first part of the track in my head as a blog post. So here THAT is.

Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
All at once

Whining. I’m good at whining. It’s why I have a blog, it’s why I have Facebook and it’s why I have Twitter. Because I am one of those melodramatic f… oh hang on, I’ve not got to that bit of the lyrics yet.

I think all of us with access to the interwebs are good at whining. Because most of us have the luxury to be able to do it. Sometimes, during my day job, I see stories about people that break my heart. I have absolutely no right to whine. The very fact that I have access to an outlet for venting my spleen is an absolute privilege, not a right. It makes me feel guilty occasionally. Here I am, complaining about something totally insignificant when I was in a meeting earlier where a patient was discussed. He’s not even 25 years old and has a terminal illness. He can’t attend a certain hospital for clinical trials that might prolong his life because he simply can’t afford to travel that far.

I have no right to whine. Neither do most people. And yet, they do anyway. Here I am, whining about whining. That’s faintly paradoxical. Or ironic. Or something.

I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it

Wait… did these guys actually invade my headspace? That sums me up completely. Yes, I’m melodramatic. I think most people are in their own way. Melodrama is so much fun. Why not flounce once in a while? Actually, my life is less melodramatic and more of a sit-com. I’m less… Eldorado and more Open All Hours. Seriously. Some of the stuff that seems to happen to me, you couldn’t script. Like being stuck on a hay bale in the middle of rush hour. Or sweeping up bits of my car with a dustpan and brush. Or not being able to sign for my house because the third signatory was being chased down all across Ireland. So… not so much melodrama as comedy.

Actually, I think I’m probably less gentle Open All Hours and more Spaced. Yes, that works.

Sometimes I give myself the creeps


Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me


It all keeps adding up
I think I’m cracking up

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not talking about it except to say that Seroxat just made me yawn uncontrollably.

Am I just paranoid?
Am I just stoned?

I’m not paranoid. You just think I am.

As for being stoned… well, no. Not at all. I’m in a near permanent state of hyperactivity, although it manifests in a variety of different ways. I’ve recently started cutting down on caffeine and that’s done me no end of good. I mean, I’m actually sleeping well. And that’s faintly unheard of.

I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams

I saw a psychotherapist once. His name was Geoff. He was very lovely, actually. After three sessions he listened to me blather on about an assortment of things that you really don’t need to know and he said ‘how is it that you are so well adjusted mentally?’ We mutually agreed that the axiom ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ applied in this instance and left it at that. He taught me a valuable lesson about myself. It’s also very simple and helps put things into perspective occasionally and it was this.

“Cosmically speaking, the fact you’re even alive is a miracle. First of all, you had to beat off millions of other sperm to win the race to fertilise an egg. The chances of those conditions being just right are also astronomical. You’ve overcome astounding odds before you’ve even developed. Then you went through foetal development, where a thousand and one things could have gone horribly wrong. Then you survived the traumas of childbirth and childhood. You’re alive and well in a world that universally speaking is even more unlikely. You’re the one standing on the gold place podium. That’s you. That one in a billion, billion. You’re something special.”

Thanks, Geoff.


She says it’s lack of sex
That’s bringing me down

Actually, Geoff the Psychotherapist and I had a long chat about sex. Not in a perverted way. It was interesting. I’m not going to share the pearls of wisdom of that discussion with you at all.

I went to a whore
Who said my life’s a bore
So quit my whining cause
It’s bringing her down

The bit of the song that’s completely not relevant to me.

Let’s see. Then I go back to giving myself the creeps and having my mind play tricks on me… and then, in the middle…

Grasping to control
So I better hold on

Those are less lyrics and more a mantra.

Thanks, Green Day!


2 thoughts on “Basket Case

  1. AJ says:

    Haha another great and entertaining post 🙂

  2. Flickums says:

    Thanks, Green Day.


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