It's Officially the Saddest Day of the Year

Another one of those official-but-pointless press releases.

Now look.

There’s plenty to be unhappy about. God knows we’re all facing those foul little squirts of adrenalin with the credit crunch, and this morning it seems Britain has been hit by a water cannon, but come on.

You could be living in the hottest part of the world, where people every day have to walk a 30-mile round trip to fetch their water in sweltering heat, and when the water comes out of the ground, it is literally boiling.

You could be George W Bush, about to give way to someone approximately 8 billion times more popular than you – no money is worth that, dude.

You could be an animal – would you like to spend your life as a dung beetle? I would, actually, but I’m a bit weird like that.
Or you could be a patient awaiting dentistry in the 18th Century. That was not fun.

And if you really want to widen the frame on the luckiness thing:

Arthur C Clarke said we are nothing but chemicals risen to consciousness, so be grateful that the chemicals that make up you aren’t currently being used as a swamp, or a cow pat, or a lamp, or spinning through the vast, cold vacuum of space as a lifeless comet, or Gary Bushell’s Beard, getting covered in bits of egg and venom.

So come on, brace up, let’s make the best of it. It’s really not so bad. Have a good day.