I am in a fix. I am in a fix so fixy it has been stuck with superglue and nailed for good measure.
It is a fix with no immediate unfix. Basically I'm screwed (fixy pun intended.)
I am sitting with a cup of tea, deflated with the fixiness. I am - as most sick and disabled people have to learn to be - an Empress of fix-solving. I have fixed fixes that seemed unfixable. I have urged, begged, manoeuvred, cajoled and outwitted my way through many a fix. I have a PHD in fixes. But this fix was designed by Mr Rubix himself.
Yet who am I? I watch my timeline absent mindedly and a succession of mega-fixes flow by.
Bankers who ought to be in prison that have so much seedy backroom influence, our politicians would rather pay homage than allow them to be arrested.
Corrupt media moguls and police departments with their sticky little fingers still dripping from the honey jar, arguing that they "do not recall" ever eating any honey in their lives.
Government ministers lying with a frequency so shocking it has actually ceased to shock.
Desperate, abandoned citizens setting themselves on fire outside benefit offices, just a joke for Guido and his pals. "Oh how we laughed at the burning man!"
A world economy sucking hope and dreams down the plughole for the want of a bit of imagination and a lot of work.
It is the last days of Rome, literally, fiddling while claimants burn.
I have no idea what's going on with my country any more. If we cut out the corruption would there actually be anything left? It seems we must totally rebuild our economy, our banking system, our media, our democracy, our society and our communities.
Yet we are offered public enquiries that will conclude nothing, legal cases where no-one will be found guilty, Lords reform that almost certainly won't happen, expenses investigations that let the culprits keep the money they stole and cheating ministers allowed to keep their jobs.
Can we fix these fixes? Does anyone actually want to any more?