schadenfreude

Does schadenfreude really provide the best kind of joy? Is my enemy’s enemy my friend?

Is living well really the best revenge or would it be better to see the slithering worm trodden underfoot by a herd of Buffalo?
Is there more joy in keeping your mind on what goodies you can pick up at Harrods or would it be more satisfying to see the aforementioned slithering worm humiliated publicly in front of your own eyes?
You be the judge fellow travellers!

Is knowing that the person, who is always in the full flush of health and never has a day of being unable to get out of bed, has finally been struck down by some bed clamping illness satisfying? When this same person, who in the past has accused you of ‘taking a sickie’ while you were drugged up to the eyeballs in order just to survive and begging them to phone work for you, finally succumbs to the flu, life starts to regain its meaning. I love winter. I could shout it from the rooftops! I love winter. I love it when that slithering worm who will remain unnamed, who is never sick, actually gets their comeuppance and croaks like a toad, and coughs and splutters and can’t eat or even drink coffee. It’s a delight to find them unable to lift their bleary head from the pillow and actually countenance a day of sick leave.

“Raindrops keep falling on my head …” you’ll hear me singing
“ … something something …. too big for his bed….” As I skip off merrily into the cold and the rain and the wind, without so much as a frog in the throat.

Then I happily come home after a long demanding day at work, and generously and caringly prepare the chicken soup, and maybe even vegemite on toast and a cup of tea.
“Another cup of tea” I sing out as I merrily skip into the room!
‘Would you like another cup of tea?’ – I say through my broad smile, in reply to the barely audible groan. “What about some more Codrals?”

“…. but I’m never going to stop the rain by complaining …”

Its almost as satisfying as having the opportunity to read the written work of a colleague who you might have secretly been measuring yourself up against, and finding out he writes at the level comparable to that of a year 12 student. Or worse.

“ … cryin’s not for me …”
“Do do do do do do do do”

Or almost as good as having the nitwit driver who cuts you off and then swerves into the next lane in an attempt to get a jump on the traffic, but instead gets stuck behind a bus!
“Sunshine on my shoulder, makes me happy ….” – I sing as I slowly glide past.
The smile never leaves my face, at least not until I’m out of sight and observing yet another episode of injustice on the nation’s roads.

“So I just did me some talking to the sun, and I said I didn’t like the way he got things done, sleeping on the job!”

Or almost as good as hearing that your slithery ex who had not that long ago started the law degree has flunked out of uni!
YES!!!!
He should have realised I wasn’t lying to him when I told him he was a loser!

“Those raindrops keep falling on my head. They keep falling.”

How about the person who rushes ahead of you to get to the photocopier, only to find its out of paper!

“ something something …. sleeping on the job…. ”
“Do do do do do do do do …. They keep falling …”

What happens to the seething knot of professional jelaousy over a colleague’s promotion to senior management upon hearing of the shake out at the top of the organisation? Somehow it all melts away.

“Do do do do do do do do”
“… because I’m free …..”

“ …raindrops keep falling on my head. They keep falling.”

“Nothing’s worrying me.”
“Do do do do do do do do”

written by  pavlan on October 20, 2006 from Boksic Lug, Croatia
from the travel blog: travels of the mind to Boksic Lug
Send a Compliment

comment on this...