Squash it away

Just the next street along


Pam was busy today. Bugger. Never mind. I can do this, I CAN DO THIS. Toddle back to the hospital, give a presentation on depression and dementia. I CAN DO THIS. Go talk to a person who's liver seems to be failing. IT WILL BE FINE. Squash, my first lesson. First girl there (other than me) so we stand awhile wondering whether or not the other is there for the same reason. Each decides that the other is looking in the same way and therefore is likely to be. She says hello. Hello. Are you here for squash? Yes, are you? Yes. Are you a student? Yes, are you? No, I work for the University. Oh what do you do? I work for STAR, they organised sports and halls (a strange combination but ok). Are you in halls? No, I used to be 3 years back now. Where did you live. Ashburne hall, I liked it a lot. Oh did you know Michelle? Erm, no. Oh I think she was the warden then, her husband is the warden now in Richmond Park, so we all had to move. Oh. Did you know Brian? No. STOP IT, I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT, GO AWAY. So it goes and I'm soon standing on my own smacking a ball against a wall. Think I'm ok at squash, aside from the serving.

The thing is I'm keeping it at now, I'm forgetting all that and quite frankly I want all those things to become cold shadows in the hope that they will eventually slowly fade to nothing. It's my way of making things work, because it isn't at the moment really.