My Kind of Classy Good News

I’m not telling you what my news is. That wouldn’t be proper, you may well have an incredibly good idea by the end of my ramblings but I swear I won’t have actually said the words. After all, it’s probably not something that anyone’s going to be monumentally surprised about among my immediate acquaintance.

Put it this way, I’ve hardly decided to go out and transplant myself an octopus head (I’m currently on holiday and the delicious seafood on offer is doing things to my imagination. That was almost definitely too much information). But what would be the elegant way of announcing it will a little dash of panache? Sure, I know what you’re going to say – it’s all about holding oneself back. If I was prepared to wait until the appointed time I would be heralded as the epitome of good taste. However, every now and then you find yourself bursting to tell someone even though you know you really oughtn’t.

That’s the nature of a secret. Well, when it’s something exciting that is. If it’s a shameful revelation you’d very much rather the world never had to know you’ll find new depths within yourself you never knew were there when it comes to keeping stuff concealed. However, blessings and such will bubble away within you until you can’t quite help but froth over regardless of those pesky consequences.

So let’s try and turn our attention away from that which I’m dying (not dying, little bit of hyperbole for you but I’m very much looking forward to the correct moment to unveil) to let out into the world. What qualifies as good news? Perhaps that politicians we’d rather were out of office have had a beneficial change of heart and resigned. Or that your brilliance has been recognised with a promotion you’ll only later discover the responsibilities of which you can’t especially handle. Maybe it’s just that you’ve cooked a perfect egg.

Song choices courtesy of: Vance Joy, The Lumineers and Murray Gold

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