There are two things I don’t cope well with – confrontation and embarrassment. Confrontation makes me blush, become wildly inarticulate and I spend hours running back over it in my head. Embarrassment just makes me blush – I’ll turn bright red at the drop of a hat for the slightest of imagined misdoings.
Today though two things happened. I met the ex-flatmate-form-hell (Hi Veronica, no – of course it’s not you – you’re the ex-flatmate-from-heaven) in the street, had a chat and walked off, didn’t think any more of it until later. Later was when I tripped down the stairs in front of a nurse ’cause I was reading an email I’d printed. She asked if I was okay, I told her I was an idiot and kept on moving. No blushing.
How bizarre. What’s happening to me? Surely I can’t be ‘maturing’. Oh dear god, it’s Hush Puppies and pastel track suits for me now.