Buying a house can be enough of a headache without the constant stress of the possibility of the broken 'chain' phenomenon.
I was in high school when I first decided that design would be my destination, but my GPS must have been on the blink, because the exact area of design was undetermined. Today, I'm no closer to finding the exact location I fit into, but I have discovered that it's something that doesn't need to be found.
Andy Murray is chasing history in Australia. No man in the Open era has managed to follow-up their first Grand Slam title by winning the next major tournament.
Benjamin Franklin memorably stated "Gentlemen, we must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately". The message that no group of people can succeed and prosper who are divided against themselves, applies equally to society at large.
In almost every international tournament, Britons baying for success end up disappointed, often before the event is even half way through. As a nation, we stand these people - who regularly end up in the newspaper for one nightclub misdemeanour or another, one extramarital trifling or another, or the occasional on-pitch inappropriate remark - on pedestals and eulogise them as pillars of our nation.
I've certainly been inspired by the Olympic games to improve my own fitness and to get more involved in sport again. I hope that millions across the world feel the same way and get the chance to enjoy sport - even if it just means taking a run around the block more often.
At the back end of 2010, whilst the majority of the tennis world entered into their short winter slumber, Serbia played France for the Davis Cup, the premier international team tennis event.
I have no personal animus against Andy Murray, and I dare say it is irritating not to win a tennis match, but precisely when did we turn into a nation of snivelling losers? At what point in the history of the last hundred years did the stiff upper lip start to quiver; Did it stop being shameful for a grown man to burst into tears just because he came second in a game? Did it become possible for a serial runner-up to become 'champion of our hearts' not with a bang, but a whimper?
I've found that many bar-stool social commentators on the annoyance of the female grunt are men. Ha, the audacity! The male species complaining about the vociferous nature of women? That's like Bob Diamond complaining about interest rates or Jimmy Carr complaining about the tax system.
The tennis this weekend caused quite a stir. In the big Murray VS Federer debate, loyalties across the country were torn between supporting a Brit and supporting a tennis favourite. Of course, if you admitted you were supporting anyone other than Murray, the aftermath was almost as bad as telling an avid football supporter that 'it's just a game'.
In three days the Andy Murray caricature has gone from almost instantly dislikeable - moody, angry and seemingly spoilt Scotsman - to gracious, emotionally resonant British hero who, whether destined to win multiple Grand Slams or not, is beloved of a nation.
I've already heralded Wimbledon, as an event, the greatest sporting tournament in the world, and Wimbledon 2012 has proven to be the best of its kind in my memory. It had it all; shocks, fairytales and plenty a headline story.
The British sports fan is like a child beauty pageant mom, thrusting our not overly-pretty little girl in front of the baying flashbulbs when she'd much rather just be getting on with being a kid.
They say a week is a long time in politics, but what about sport, not to mention finance? The past seven days have been remarkable if for nothing more than their volatility, with headlines changing faster than terrorism alerts on British motorways. Is mentioning the tennis a bit like mentioning the weather? So obvious a topic as to make this entire blog worthless, and likely to jinx any chance of a sunny outlook?
I'll be more than happy to belt out "Flower of Scotland" if Andy Murray can take that final step into the realms of greatness on Sunday. After all, my ginger hair would suggest I've more in common with Murray than I do with Ronaldo.
Silverstone. The home of the British Grand Prix, but also the home of Formula One. If Monaco symbolises the glitz and glamour of F1, Silverstone is the history of F1.