I found this little ladybird on the footpath the other day as I took all the crap out of my car that’s been sitting in it since December. Well, to be fair, a lot longer than that. I’m not a total slob but the car always ends up being a wardrobe on wheels.
I don’t like to share a lot of my personal life on the internet. I have my Facebook page on lockdown to all but my fairly small list of friends, I rarely talk about anything other than the complete mundane on Twitter. I don’t expect complete strangers will want to know that much about me, anyway.
However, walking around town at Christmas with one arm in a sling and the other in a hefty black splint meant I automatically drew attention to myself without meaning to. Still, social norms dictate you don’t ask unless you’re told, no? Not for the lady who got into the lift with me at Marks and Spencers. As she, me and a few other strangers decended slowly she asked what happened, and I gave a quick reply with the usual ‘snow… ice… slipped… sure I’m grand, it could have been worse, hahaha!’ response designed to keep things lighthearted. But no no, she went straight for the big guns, loudly: ‘But… HOW ARE YOU GOING TO THE TOILET?’
I wish I had said ‘Grand thanks, how are you going to the toilet?’ Instead I mumbled ‘Grand, thanks’ and stared at the floor until we reached the carpark.