There was a tiny moment this morning when I thought about not going to work today. It was the moment that I woke up and felt like I had been punched in the stomach by a large man. A very large man. With one of those scary metal knuckle duster affairs. The ones that usually have something like HATE or I Love My Mum written on them.
But having neither ETAH or muM yM evoL I branded onto my stomach I assumed there was something else going on. But also realising that I was standing and not in any way falling over thought that I should do that left right left right thing and continue onwards.
I just made the bus so had no time to stand at the stop, contemplate my life and come up with reason why I shouldn’t go in. Which was great. And by the time I was in Preston I was feeling… well, rubbish, obviously but onwards…
I saw someone I used to be friends with and she looked terrible. I mean, I was sweating, hair akimbo, huffing and puffing like a big bad wolf, all the bits (that shouldn’t be) wobbling about but she looked terrible. Trying to be evil but just coming off as manic grin, she always used to be dressed impeccably – she’s one of those who puts a lot of value in her appearance – but today she looked as if she had got dressed backwards in the dark. It made me sad for her.
But I was thinking about myself and getting through the day. Work itself was… weird. There’s been some weird office politics going on recently but it has really increased over the last few days. It was one of those were I knew it was going on and I knew what was going on but I had to pretend it wasn’t going on as I hadn’t been there when it was… going… on… Hmmm.
But I survived and ended the day in Starbucks.
Although there were one or two moments when I was almost crying for someone to say the magic words, “Go home”.