I’m grumpy, because I’ve asked everyone I can think of to attend an event with me and none of them can come. (It’s 5pm. The event starts at 6pm and requires special clothing). I lie on my bedroom floor and consider my options. I hang off the edge of my bed and consider them further. Nothing, except a strange roaring sound in my ears. I get up. ‘Would you like to come to an event with me?’ I ask my cleaner. ‘No,’ she tells me. I am affronted. I stomp upstairs again. I practice headstands against the wall until my cleaner comes up to ask what I am breaking.
I untangle myself and smile winningly at her. I’m not sure I have made myself seem a more attractive proposition. I follow her to the bathroom. (She is heading there to clean it, it’s not weird that I’m following her). ‘Look!’ I say proudly, brandishing some toilet roll. ‘I got some more toilet paper!’ (I chose my words carefully, as I had actually purloined this toilet paper from the toilet at my therapist’s office).
My cleaner seemed pleased, but unmoved to accompany me that evening. I give up, crossly. My friend calls me. ‘How was your day?’ she asks politely. ‘Terrible,’ I tell her. ‘You?’ My friend draws breath to reply. I quickly interrupt. ‘No, don’t tell me. I’ve had enough bad news for this year. First, I got these awesome tickets. For free.’ I begin. ‘Um, yes?’ my friend replies. ‘And I can’t find anyone to go with me,’ I continue. ‘OK, your go.’ ‘Well,’ she begins slowly. ‘It was just a pretty stressful day on the ward. Children kept trying to die on me.’
‘Oh gosh,’ I say, shocked at my own insensitivity. ‘And now you’ve just had the terrible news about my ticket problem,’ I say sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry, it’s been tough on all of us.’