Lonely

“… And then next door’s cat did the funniest thing – she launched herself into a bush in a failed attempt to catch me a bird! I knew the bird was a present for me because I’d just been stroking her tummy for ages. Anyway, two letters came for you in the post. Mum called me at around lunchtime and I found three more jobs I’m going to apply for. I think the washing machine has broken and by the way I drank all the milk, oh and ...”

Have you ever thought about the number of people you speak to, even just say good morning, in an average day? My bet is you wouldn’t be able to remember them all. I could be having three conversations at once while simultaneously signing for the day’s deliveries at my old work and would consider it perfectly normal behaviour.

Slowly but surely, what I’ve come to notice now that working in an office is no longer part of my daily routine, is that I hardly talk at all during the day. So little in fact that when my partner gets home I can’t stop the banal diatribe that hurtles from my mouth and into his ears.

I get excited if the postman rings the bell, because it means I can interact with someone – albeit for 30 seconds. A few words and a smile from the sales guy in Costcutter is a great pick-me-up. Making phone calls also prompts much enthusiasm. Although I have to remember to clear my throat before trying to speak – otherwise all my vocal chords can produce is an unintelligible croak.

It’s lonely, this business.