Yesterday was ‘Blue Monday’, so I spent most of the day humming ‘Blue Monday’ to the tune of ‘Blue Velvet’.
For those of you who don’t live next door to me, it was a little like this: ‘And it’s bloooo Monday, yes yes I should get up. But it’s blooooo Monday, my bed is so warm and I’ve just knocked over a cup.’ (It was a glass really, but I think artistic license should be allowed). ‘Oh bother, that’s not wwwaaaater, it’s diet coke. How apt for bloooo Monday’. I was having quite a marvelous time (apart from the spilled diet coke, naturally. That was infuriating).
My phone rang. ‘Hello!’ I said cheerily. Except I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that morning, so rather than the optimistic greeting I hoped would fall out of my mouth, it was a slightly groggy croak. I’m not even sure I said ‘Hello’. It might have been ‘MMhum’. ‘Are you still asleep?’ My therapist asked me. ‘No!’ I said promptly. ‘I have been extremely productive this morning.’ (Luckily my therapist began speaking at this point, because I’m not sure how well-received my ‘Blue Monday’ song would have been. Sometimes, my therapist is extremely grudging about my achievements. She barely cared at all when I finalised my definitive celebrity crush top 10. It’s something we’re working on).
‘You sound like you’ve just woken up,’ she continued. ‘You know it’s 11.30am?’
I didn’t know that, actually, because I had recently spilt diet coke over my watch, so it was recovering in a bed of Kleenex. I wondered if my therapist was watching me. I pulled my duvet up to my neck, just in case. (I’m not suggesting my therapist is an uncontrollable pervert. Just nosy). ‘Anyway,’ my therapist continued. ‘I’m very sorry to do this, but would you be able to come 30mins earlier to our appointment?’ ‘Is our appointment in the morning?’ I asked quickly. ‘Because that’s when I do my best work. If not, certainly.’ I’m so accommodating. I’m also terribly excited for today’s morning song, ‘Goodbye Lucy Tuesday’
(to the tune of The Rolling Stones’ ‘Ruby Tuesday’).
unfashionablylost 