Last night looked like it was going to devolve into a further downward spiral of anxiety and unhealthy behaviour when I got a very timely phone call from one Simon Jackson, who's had a lot of practice in talking me down from the ledge. For example:
Me: I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna jump! It's ALL TOO MUCH!!!
Him: That's too bad. I was going to read you Jane Austen while you eat that Midnight Chocolate Cookie Haagen Dazs that's in your freezer.
Me: ... ok.
And this is why I will marry him someday.
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1 comment:
please do send over Simon's address so I can send him a proper thank you card in the mail.
Simon-- you are very good at your job. I would like to recruit you to shepard all my wayward loved ones.
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