Few things improve your attitude towards the work-filled day ahead like a crack on the forehead from a curtain pole.
Why do these things always happen to me? I honestly believe that a cliff edge that had been there since the beginning of time and held the weight of hundreds of thousands of hikers who’d rambled across it over the years would instantly snap off in the very moment that I was walking over it, plunging me suddenly and without warning into the sea below to be eaten by sharks or suchlike. I am always the one who will be opening the door when the handle falls off, or in the lift when it breaks down, or standing directly in the path of the drunk guy who’s throwing up.
So anyway, I dragged myself out of bed in the knowledge that I have a ton of work to do and very little time in which to do it. After showering, dressing, and putting the coffee on, I was even starting to feel like I could manage to make a start. Briskly, I pulled the curtains open to let some additional grayness flow in – and the whole ensemble promptly fell on my head. Curtains, pole, the lot.
I cannot fix the situation, mainly because I am dizzy and have a large bump on my head. But also, I did not think to bring my (pink) Emergency Tool Kit For Women Living On Their Own on my travels with me. It probably wasn’t called that, but it was useful for fixing things that fell on me, or at least for handing to male friends when I was asking them to fix things that had fallen on me.
Of course, this would happen to me, on my own, when Riho is away. When he returns to find the huge living room window bare and the curtains and pole on the floor, is he really going to believe that they “just, erm, fell down” and that they just happened to do so when he wasn’t here to see it happening? No. He will think I have been having mad parties that involved swinging on the curtains and causing pointless destruction, and I will be evicted and banished to Switzerland or something.
You wait and see.