She banged on my door this morning...bitch! Told me the time. I knew the freaking time! What is it that makes these people I don't know think that they can impose upon my life this way?
Later: 'Sorry I woke you.'
'You didn't wake me,' I'd been awake for an hour, just a laying weight on my bed like a pile of bricks unable to move. Unable to formulate in my head where I was and who I needed to be today. This happens a lot. If I added up the number of hours I spend lying in bed in the morning unable to move because I don't know what to wear, who to be that day, how to deal with the sudden flow of blood from my head as I stand up...well, lets just say its a lot.
But there was something about that knock. It jolted me, just enough for me to get out of this state far enough to stand up. So maybe in a way she did wake me up.
'Would you like a grapefruit? Tea or coffee? Brown or white toast? Full English? With or without beans?' Too many questions. Overload, overload. I give my slow chugging mechanical answers to each, and when she has left the room wonder if I'm even hungry.
I've worked out that if I can get through the first few social interactions in a day without anyone realising there's something amis, then the anxiety doesn't kick in and the fog starts to clear. Next was Mr Stubbs, lovely bloke, no problem. Then came Mr and Mrs Sandlewood, who I somehow managed to hold in conversation for a good ten minutes, though I can't reacll a word of it.
So today was a good day, and the sun was shining. I'm sure that helps.