I haven’t forgotten you.
I haven’t fallen off the Earth.
Or drowned in a puddle.
Seriously. Once I did almost drown in a puddle. A long time ago. I kept wading. And thinking how deep can this puddle actually go? You have to picture a twenty year old me. In a long hippy skirt. Bum deep in puddle. Swinging my shopping bags somewhere near my ears. Soggy hair stuck to my head. Telling myself: I still have my dignity. No one is around. No one has seen me.
Seriously folks. I thought because no one else was crazy enough to be in the flooded street, at that exact moment, that meant no one had seen me.
I put two and two together and made five.
The following week a handsome young man, who had been shyly admiring me for some time, approached me and said he had seen me the previous week. With my shopping bags. Looking like a drowned rat-ess. Battling a puddle.
His adoring look had changed, unsubtly, to a why? You mad freak!
I tried to woo him back with tales of how I would have swum had it not been for my full shopping bags… That they would have sailed away… But he scarpered.
Where was I?
Oh yes. Right. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much the last couple of weeks. I have been spending time with family and friends. And doctors. Of course. I managed not to embarrass myself at the internist. For the first time. I did feel the need to tell the nurse that she was very efficient. Several times. After they spiked me with the truth drug. But I didn’t do anything like this.
I am beating the door of forty and finally I have a reason to be proud of myself.