Violet. Have you booked for the theatre yet?
Oh god, no, sorry, forgot, I’ll do it right now. Right now, sorry.
Of course I didn’t do it right now. Because I am scatty as fuck and I never write anything down and I keep it all in my head and I don’t have a diary and I forget everything all the time.
And my brain is a little like a marshmallow and maybe it’s the internet and maybe I’m starting menopause because I’m also moody BOOM BANG KAPOW but I’ll never admit to either of those things and don’t you dare either, so I think it’s just that I’m scatty.
I’ve always kind of managed. Except lately, when I seem to be starting all my emails with Sorry I’m not usually like this, and OH GOD and OOPS and ARGH HELP FUCKIT FUCKIT FUCKIT.
So today I wrote out my first To Do List.
I took a deep breath. Found a gorgeous piece of paper, picked out a beautiful pen, pulled in my chair, sat up straight, wrote the date on top and then:-
SOMETHING THAT I COULDN’T READ
SOMETHING ELSE I COULDN’T READ
GLUTEN FREE WHAT NO IT CAN’T BE…
And as I got through everything, except the writing which I knew I wasn’t going to do anyway, I felt a kind of smug satisfaction coming over me.
It wasn’t from the sex. It was this great feeling of accomplishment.
Strike one. Strike two. Strike Three.
Except I just remembered I forgot to book the theatre tickets because oh god sorry I am not usually like this, I’m going to do it right now, promise.
But oh my gosh I can’t because I can smell burning and dammit goddammit argh I’ve left the pizza in the oven, the oven’s on fire…
Sorry. I’m not usually like this.
N.B. The pic may not relate. I kinda forgot what I was doing.