Paranoia

Do you ever get that slightly paranoid feeling that people take one look at you and think you are completely bonkers?

Today was one of those rare moments when I felt like ignoring my usual casual sloppy look and dressing up. The white and black flowery Zara skirt came out the wardrobe, I put on a necklace and bracelet and then to finish it off I shunned the clod hopper DM sandals and went for my extremely impractical high heel wedges. I bought them last year in a fit of madness; I discovered that while they were great for getting me up the hill for those late evening summer drinks getting back down the hill was hugely problematic. I had to do it barefoot once (dodging all the dog poo – niiice) and there after I shoved my flip flops in my bag for the journey home. But I can never quite finish it off, I couldn’t be bothered to wash my hair so I braided them into a pair of pig tails and off I tottered extremely slowly.

After coming back from lunch –safe in the knowledge that I had now learned to walk in these damn shoes – I discovered that as promised Derek had brought in a Basil plant for me. I took it upstairs terrified that I might drop it and deposited it safely on my desk then e mailed Derek to ask for specific notes on how to care for the thing. He had grown it from a seed so I don’t want to kill it straight away do I?

As I left work I fully intended to look for a plastic bag to put the plant in, but I got distracted by Colleen who was looking through photos of last week’s trip and then Derek turned up and began repeating the care tips for the plant and before I knew it I was tottering away with the plant carefully cradled in my hand.

Then as I was changing lines there was a bit of a wait so I sat on a bench still lovingly cradling the plant and out of the corner of my eye I saw an elderly gentleman surveying me with a bemused look on his face. He was trying to hide it, but he was looking very carefully; from the tree tattoo on my ankle to the flowery skirt, the flowery handbag and then the plant clutched in my hand. All of a sudden the image of that woman who walked around cradling her log in Twin Peaks flashed into my mind. Am I being paranoid?