Perhaps as a kind of revenge on world’s behalf I spent the whole day feeling slightly out of sorts and all alone with my incredibly petty middle-class issues. Getting on the train and watching the way people look at me. Squeezing up the back of the cafe for lunch, so I don’t draw any more attention – it’s bad enough that I’m not flipping through a fashion mag or discussing my home reno with my friends, like all the other patrons. Later in the afternoon, finding myself ordering a latte instead of long macchiato and then fumbling with my $50 note ’cause I didn’t have any other change by this point in the day, sheepishly handing it to the guy behind the counter saying “sorry, sorry, sorry…”
Somehow, though, I made it home.