Woke up late. Forgot to put the boiler on so had a very brief and tremendously refreshing shower. Hit my head jumping out. Came downstairs to find that the cat had broken through the door again. This time however, he took the flap with him – like a plastic necklace, except cat-sized. Reapprended him, wedged between two posts in the garden.
Ran for train. Realised I’d forgotten my deodorant.
Just about made it, so sweatily folded myself into a seat. A ripple as people surveyed one another from behind the safety of the FT.
Closed my eyes and went to my happy place, (not a crowded commuter train). Felt someone poking my arm. An elderly lady opposite with a bright smile.
‘It’s you, isn’t it? You that wrote the book! ‘
(stage whisper) ‘ANOREXIA, wasn’t it? ANOREXIA’.
I freeze as the carriage swivels to assess my breakfast.
‘Thought so, I’ve seen you at CHURCH. You’re a CHRISTIAN, aren’t you? Married to that vicar – what’s his name, GLEN?’
Someone else turns round.
‘Are you a writer? What have you written then? Haven’t heard of it. Are you any good?’
I shake my head and contemplate the exit. Beam me up Scotty.
‘What’s it about then?’…
An hour later. Crawl out of my seat and head for the underground. Meet a friend, which is lovely. Decide to make the most of the day and get some Christmas shopping. Spend too much but it’ll be worth it when they see their pressies! Realise with a start that my train is leaving, so look for ticket. Can’t find it. Decide to get another so head for the cash point. Hands feeling very light. Realise that someone has nicked all my shopping.
Forget my pin number. Try it four times and watch the card disappear. (Card blocked: please contact your nearest branch). No nearby branch. Phone bank and am placed in a queue. Walk to nearest station. Miss train. Get another. Arrive home to find cat-shaped hole in back door. Give up and go to bed.