There is an awful lot to care about. And when we say care, we mean worry. Equally, there’s plenty of worthy stuff to reflect on. And when we say reflect, we mean panic.
What seems a shame is that we can’t decide what to fret over. Nasty, wormy thoughts burrow their way into our vulnerable psyches, and before we know it, we are no longer focusing on climate change.
Nasty, wormy thoughts burrow into our psyches, and before we know it, we are focusing on whether the Ocado man likes us
We have moved on to whether the Ocado man likes us, and, if we suddenly die, will people find the self-help books, diaries and out-of-date beta blockers hidden in our…? Oh, God. These are not noble concerns. Anyway, here are some other things that we wish we didn’t care about – but we do.
‘Have they been collected?’ It would appear not. Then we go outside and peer into the neighbours’ empty bins. That’s dignified. And then we send emails to the council demanding to know why they haven’t collected our rubbish. Is there something wrong with our rubbish? So that’s who we are now. Bin botherers.
So is it tights weather yet? But is it? It’s a bit cold. But tights? Actually the world is divided into those who have been planning their re-entry to tights since August, and those who will suffer (but smugly) until December.
That’s not even the end of the tights train of thought. Sheer? Opaque? Navy? Fishnet? Also do we wear them low? High? Who has the best tights? Are we old-school M&S? Or new-kid-on-the-block Heist? Can we do hold-ups, or will we feel silly? Honestly, the possibilities are boring but endless.
Seeds and nuts
We used to think of seeds and nuts as snacks. Now they are tiny stowaways that get stuck in our front four teeth, so that in meetings we can only worry away at the little nub, or even risk that incredibly inelegant dig around while pretending to concentrate on what Matthew from HR is saying.
And if they are not wedged in the front, then they are potential Davids to our molar Goliaths. Small rocks that might send us on a six-month dentistry odyssey with one little badly angled crack. Let’s not start on toffees…
One minute you have all the time in the world, and are cavalierly jumping on to scooters to ride down twisty island roads without sunscreen. The next minute OMFG.
‘So I will just send over a Dropbox file,’ says the efficient person at the end of the phone/email. At which point we begin to scream internally. Yes, it should be easy. Yes, we get how it works (we don’t and it doesn’t), but why does the word ‘Dropbox’ haunt our waking hours? We just want to live Dropbox-free. Why is that too much to ask?
Things that grow on our faces
One of us has a blob on her face that measures less than 2mm by less than 2mm. She has been to a skin doctor about it. It needs plastic-surgical intervention. She can’t stop thinking about it. She may even talk to it. Can she live with the blob? Can she live with the blob when battling what threatens to be a full beard?
Are we Amaro? Or Crema? Maybe it’s a Clarendon day. Or Lark? Lark is cool, calm, collected. Let’s go for Lark. Or are we the puppy face or the cute ears and koala nose? Does it make what we are saying any less annoying if we have garlands of flowers on our heads? Or are we #nofilter? Like Alexandra Shulman in her bikini. Didn’t she look cool?