Those days when you wake up to the sun streaming through your window, check your phone and instantly descend into a chest contracting, stomach flipping fit of panic. Those days are definitely a sure sign that you are back to grown up life.
As your head is sinking into despair from the knowledge that you are over an hour late for work the world seems bleak. Thoughts race through your mind. Should you call them? Let them know you’re not dead? Would they care? Maybe you should be dead,,, that way you wouldn’t have to live with the embarrassment of scuttling in so late. How could you have slept so long? Why didn’t your alarm go off? Maybe it’s broken? Maybe you’re sick? Yup… you’re definitely sick…! Maybe you are dying…. is that good?
As I prepared myself mentally and emotionally for the call I was going to have to make it suddenly dawned on me how much of a fool I am. It was five in the morning not five in the afternoon…! I wasn’t late and I wasn’t dying. I didn’t have to buy a new phone and I wasn’t going to be shamed for arriving at work late (ironically this happened a few days later when I read the rota wrong…. ).
In those first few moments of my day, I had experienced far too many emotions to be considered good for one’s health. As the palpitations subsided and I regained rational thought I gave myself a serious talking to and vowed to buy curtains as soon as possible.
Welcome back to London living.