I started a new job on Tuesday 3rd January 2017. The company had sent me a contract and a letter stating my first day would be Monday 2nd January. I turned up to find the building locked up. (It was a bank holiday.)
I wrote this in a message to Stuart, who was my sweetheart at the time. (It did not work out, it was too soon after what happened to me, and his life was complicated enough without my worries.)
Putting on my new tailored black trousers for work yesterday morning, not only was I reminded of my mortification at having put on an entire dress size, in between hospital at the start of November, and leaving my family, who had been feeding me up since the day they saw me….I also had a mini-catastrophe which incited me to want to just go straight back to bed and give up on even attempting to make a success out of the day.
I was rushing. I didn’t need to rush, as I had plenty of time, I just felt a sense of urgency inside me to get everything done more quickly and leave extra special early for work. I thought it would be quick to smear some hummus on a couple of rice-cakes and gobble them up for breakfast with my coffee. To save washing up I put them on a couple of sheets of kitchen roll. Aaaaah! Disaster! One fell instantly and landed on the carpet – hummus side down of course….and as I reached down in panic to grab it the other managed to smear my top (right smack center of my chest) and my trousers (all down my thigh).