Doughnut Day

I’m worried about my contractor. ‘Good morning!’ I said brightly as I wandered downstairs looking for my trackies. My contractor raised his head and grunted at me. ‘Can’t walk here,’ he said sternly. ‘By ‘here’,’ I asked politely. ‘Do you mean the whole of my kitchen?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Oh.’ (Yesterday was Thursday, which is usually doughnut day in my house. By this I mean on Thursdays my contractor buys me a bag of doughnuts.

Wednesday is pizza day. I think my contractor might be a feeder. I am supremely happy about this). ‘Are there any doughnuts?’ I said hopefully. ‘No doughnuts,’ my contractor replied sternly. He then shot me a look. I have literally no idea what the look meant, but I retreated quickly upstairs. (Although the look could have meant anything, I’m pretty certain it did not mean, ‘stay and discuss why there are no doughnuts with me please’). I wasn’t 100% certain how I was going to feed myself, what with the kitchen being verboten and an ominous lack of doughnuts. I thought I might have stashed away a slab of Cadburys a little while ago.

I began the onerous task of searching for it. ‘What are you looking for?’ my contractor asked me. ‘Um,’ I said vaguely, gesturing abstractly around my head and looking round for inspiration. ‘You know those things that people wear when they go running? On their head, to keep them warm? Like, a hat, but with the top part cut off?’ My contractor looked at me, bewildered. ‘This?’ he asked, passing me a headband.

‘Oh, that caught your eye too?’ I asked. ‘Smashing. Well, I guess I’ll be off then.’ I reluctantly put on some trainers and slowly walked out of my house. I wandered along to Tescos, thinking that even if it wouldn’t be the same, we could possibly still have some cobbled together form of doughnut day. I realised in the queue that I didn’t have any money on me. I also didn’t have my keys, so would have to rely on the contractor to let me in. I was forced to wander, doughnutless, along the streets until I felt a suitable amount of time had passed. ‘Back so soon?’ my contractor asked mockingly as I rang on the doorbell. ‘Well,’ I said crossly. ‘I didn’t want to expend any energy, seeing as I have no way to replace it.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ my contractor replied quickly. ‘I will replace kitchen floor soon. Weekend at latest.’ ‘I hope I survive that long,’ I said piteously. My contractor seemed entirely unfazed. ‘I must say,’ I added. ‘I did rather expect more from you. Last week there were 10 doughnuts. Is anything the matter?’