A dead flower, a broken bone and freezing my tits off in a garden.
Also talking to myself in a slightly creepy daydream conversation sort of way which in a few days I’m reasonably certain my brain will have translated into an actual conversation with other people.
Theres a reason I have no job, no prospects of getting one and I still haven’t got a publishing contract.
Of course I also have a Jellicle Cat to take out on a date tonight. This is more cheering as it may well be evidence of some sort of sanity.
Then I opened my post:
Bistro Live invited me to dance on tables for my birthday.
My CRB check for SCOPE came though (yeah this is after they fired me).
A useless but very expensive training manual from Protocol National.
An advert for hardcore porn… (in a sealed envelope address to me).
And my passplus certificate.
Well it made me laugh. Also cry. At the same time. Ahh hysteria, gentle refuge of the Mish.