Jim Corbridge's Weekly dose of reality.

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Right, gather round, you lot. Today’s sermon from the Church of Knackered Optimism comes courtesy of a quote so inspirational it could make a Gregg’s steak bake weep. “Hard times don’t create heroes. It is during the hard times when the hero within us is revealed.” Which is lovely, until you realise your inner hero is a bloke called Dave who once got stuck in a recycling bin trying to retrieve a dropped vape!

Let’s be honest. Hard times don’t reveal heroes. They reveal who’s got the last Pot Noodle, who’s nicked your Wi-Fi, and who’s still pretending to work from home while actually building a fort out of Deliveroo bags. The only thing hard times have revealed in me is a deep and abiding hatred for Zoom and a mysterious rash that seems to flare up every time someone says “pivot.”

But sure, let’s talk about heroes. Sharon from accounts, who’s been microwaving fish in the communal kitchen since 2017, is now a “resilience ambassador.” Barry, who once tried to unionise the office over the lack of Hobnobs, is now “Head of Strategic Grit.” And me? I’m just trying to survive the daily gauntlet of motivational Slack messages and passive-aggressive Post-it notes about fridge etiquette.

The hero within? He’s knackered. He’s wearing mismatched socks and hasn’t seen daylight since the last energy price hike. He’s got a cape made from a Primark dressing gown and a superpower that involves crying silently in the toilet cubicle between Teams calls.

And yet, we soldier on. Because deep down, we know that true heroism isn’t about capes or courage it’s about finding the strength to say “no” to another mandatory fun quiz, to resist the urge to reply “per my last email” with a flamethrower, and to keep showing up, even when the only thing you want to reveal is your resignation letter.

So here’s to the heroes. The ones who keep going. The ones who’ve mastered the art of looking busy while Googling “how to fake your own disappearance.” The ones who know that hard times don’t create heroes they just make us really, really good at pretending we’ve got it together.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a cape to iron and a bin to climb into. Dave’s vape isn’t going to rescue itself.

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