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I Get So Tired Sometimes
There are days when I find myself on top of the mountain. And then there are days when, whatever I do, it's wrong to somebody, and I can't seem to get through to their heads that it's not wrong: it's different.
In Liverpool Central railway station I noticed a tall man in a shiny black suit, short hair slicked back, face like the actor Peter Serafinowicz, or like that manager from my last place of employment. He was selling something to some poor old woman.
I felt a distinct sense of not wanting to go near him, not because of who he was but because I would have been wasting his time. He was selling Sky TV subscription services.
Anyway, on my way up Bold Street I felt something amiss. I'd just had another argument with someone the night before. I wanted to send that person a reassuring text. I went into Waterstone's looking for books. I was in Liverpool for my copy of Requiem for Rome, and so I was there with a purpose. Outside Waterstone's, I decided I'd also buy this book as well. I hoped the news would be received well by the person with whom I'd had the argument.
As it was, I have a feeling it made very little difference.
And now it turns out that two other people have become involved in an argument about me. And I'm not even there to argue my corner.
No, the man in the shiny suit had nothing to do with it. It's just that it was the second magpie I saw today.
I get so tired sometimes.
In Liverpool Central railway station I noticed a tall man in a shiny black suit, short hair slicked back, face like the actor Peter Serafinowicz, or like that manager from my last place of employment. He was selling something to some poor old woman.
I felt a distinct sense of not wanting to go near him, not because of who he was but because I would have been wasting his time. He was selling Sky TV subscription services.
Anyway, on my way up Bold Street I felt something amiss. I'd just had another argument with someone the night before. I wanted to send that person a reassuring text. I went into Waterstone's looking for books. I was in Liverpool for my copy of Requiem for Rome, and so I was there with a purpose. Outside Waterstone's, I decided I'd also buy this book as well. I hoped the news would be received well by the person with whom I'd had the argument.
As it was, I have a feeling it made very little difference.
And now it turns out that two other people have become involved in an argument about me. And I'm not even there to argue my corner.
No, the man in the shiny suit had nothing to do with it. It's just that it was the second magpie I saw today.
I get so tired sometimes.