“How was your day?” asks Sister as we set about making dinner. “Sincerely rubbish,” I reply, chopping a red pepper with unnecessary vigour. “I am fed up with my job, I might as well not be there, I am worth nothing to anyone, my car is going to fail the MOT, I am bored, I have a sore head, I think the cat has been possessed by some kind of demon, and there’s nobody to even give me a hug and say they give a damn.” I throw the peppers into a pan of hot oil and watch sadistically as they sizzle. “You?”
Sister makes a lot of noise firing pasta into a saucepan. “Also crap. I’m sick of my job, The Ex Boyfriend keeps phoning, I have no money to pay the car insurance, my belongings are all over the place, and today one of my colleagues ‘fixed’ a part of my car that fell off by taping it on with Scotch tape.”
We complain solidly for an hour and decide to give up on ever achieving happiness.
Then we go grocery shopping, and somehow return with 3 bars of chocolate. We make Rice Crispie buns. We eat most of the melted chocolate, finally taking to the bowl with teaspoons. We gradually conclude that life, after all, is not a total disaster.
We decide to give tomorrow a try. There’s always more chocolate.