So the other day, after a long day at 'the other office' 100 miles from where I live, I had a call from my Mum asking me to pick up some stuff on the way home. The essentials- eggs, chocolate cake and Vogue.
It's a sunny day, I'm feeling optimistic after successfully navigating myself half way across the country (with the help of my sat nav), getting to grips with the new contract I'm going to be handling at work and convincing some techies that I know what they're on about when they say things like 'circuit breaker', 'dual board' and 'acoustic sensoring system' at me. Confidently strut into the supermarche, laptop bag swung over my head, imagining that everyone is looking at me thinking 'Oooh, look at that successful young lady.' I automatically go to get the cake and the magazine because these are first priority aisles when I go shopping. I couldn't find the eggs- you'd think they would be in the diary section or by the milk, bread perhaps?
I did three laps of this supermarche. Took me about fifteen minutes when all of a sudden a feel a bit draughty. I put my arm down to smooth my dress in a nonchalant kind of way when lo and behold, my dress has been well and truly tucked into my knickers for the entire duration of my shopping experience. Why did nobody tell me? I was wearing fuchsia knickers- it can't be like nobody noticed. Three laps!
I was at the cinema once and had a lady come up to me. First reaction was ' What do you want, blondie?' She then ever so kindly pointed out to me that I had a sanitary towel cover stuck to my jeans. Brilliant. I was twelve at the time and so that experience set me up nicely for the rest of my embarrassment-fuelled life. I'm an old hand now.
I'm reading The Secret at the moment- I say reading but really it's so shit I'm just skimming it for inspirational quotes filled with the desperate notion that there might actually be a great Secret to happiness that I don't know about. But now I think that everyone has their own tailor made Secret. Mine is that my body doesn't want of such corporal needs as food and water. It doesn't need it's five-a-day or regular exercise. No. My body runs purely off embarrassment. The universe is sending embarrassing situations my way, literally feeding them to me and thus keeping me alive (barely).
I know this because when I'm embarrassed I'm never hungry. In fact, I often feel like I've eaten too much and am going to be sick. Secondly, my mouth fills with saliva therefore I don't need water- my body's making excess of it. Thirdly, and I think most crucially, I go so red I put Sir Alex Ferguson's nose to shame. This, ladies and gentle people, demonstrates that my body's circulation of blood is excellent meaning I need no additional exercise- bar the occasional running out of a supermarket in shame. How else would blood travel to my head that quickly?
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