Saturday April 12, 2008
Yesterday was, as I said, strange. Not in any frightening or harmful way, just disjointed and uncontrolled. My whole life used to be like that. Nowadays I value routine predictability rather more highly. If I don’t watch myself I can get disorientated and jumpy when my routines are disturbed, and I can get really ratty when something is not put back in its proper place.
At the moment I’m just getting over a minor fizz because the ballpen I keep on my desk has gone missing. It’ll never come back. Like a lost sock, once gone, a lost ballpen will never be found again.
“You’ve got a whole box of them in your drawer,” said Graham with absolutely no understanding whatsoever.
“I know that, and they are there because I don’t like them as much as the one that’s gone missing.”
“Why what was special about it?”
“It was special because it was always there. On my desk. Right by my hand.”
“Sometimes I think you live on a different planet.”
“Not different. Just past.”
Like I say, I can get really ratty when something isn’t put back in its proper place.