ILL-EQUIPPED

I feel Ill-equipped for life today. It’s not just the big adulty-worky-global dramas; it’s the little things. Like accidentally using the water from the tumble dryer to make a cup of tea, or eating one too many left-over flapjack-mince-pies.

It’s raining out there too. Glum with a sprinkling of misery, between the swooshing buses and the January skies. We noticed last night that many of the cheery Christmas lights have come down already, and that the remaining santas and snowflakes look a little lonely. The world’s a lot darker this side of winter.

Now. I know. January blues and all that, and yes, maybe. But I think it’s just a general hopelessness at working from home, and somehow looking after myself. Hence the minced pies and water jug mixup.

I miss the camaraderie of the office. I barely know the small, flat faces on the other side of the screen, and my most prominent interaction with them is through Slack message - which for some reason is heavier on the emojis than everything since msn messenger. Gosh. Remember msn messenger? The novelty of it seems quaint these days.

Anyway. I feel ill-equipped. Sometimes I think I’m not suited for work at all. But I’m fairly sure we all think that. For some reason, living seems to depend on an income stream, and that’s the system we’ve ended up with.

Sammy doesn’t think I can use the kettle today. I’ve rinsed it through and boiled it a few times but it does still smell a bit plasticky. It was an accident. She was keeping a jug of water above the tumble dryer, ready for watering plants. It just happened to be next to the kettle and I absent-mindedly forgot it wasn’t the water jug. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s out buying a new kettle.

Meanwhile I can’t have a cup of tea. And that’s a shame because it would go nicely with the rain-washed view, the afternoon glow of the winter lighting, and a spiced-flapjack flavoured mince pie.