Compromise

Compromise is a good thing.

It’s what makes the world go around. No, wait…that’s money, isn’t it? It’s what makes the money go around, which in turn makes the world go around.

Or something.

Point is, without compromise nothing would get done. We’d all be children waving our arms, demanding what we want, when we want, and to hell with everyone else.

A bit like Twitter.

As I got older and became entangled in a career, a family, and a mortgage that can only just be maintained as long as I keep spinning the hamster wheel, I found myself compromising more and more.

My money stopped being my money because my kids need feeding, clothing and entertaining. Compromise.

I traded in my VW Golf GTI for a rather tedious VW Touran 1.6 with plentiful storage space and a number of family friendly features. Compromise.

And tonight I will not be having a delicious and unctious pea and herb risotto for dinner because the kids won’t eat “mushed rice.” So it’ll be something bland instead. Compromise.

Fortunately, without my family I am nothing.

I would be living a life of empty gratification, lurching from selfish pleasure to selfish pleasure, barely aware what it means to feel tired and wondering what the hell to do with all my surplus cash.

Sounds like hell.

Thank goodness for compromise.


(Image: By Robson# (Flickr: Pills here) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons))

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