13 steps down

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There are thirteen stairs between my living room and kitchen, and this is how my thinking went yesterday evening...

Top step: “I feel happy... it's been a good day.”

Eleventh step: “It's a relief to get the front door sorted at last...”

Ninth step: “…and I enjoyed the exhibition.”

Seventh step: “It was good to chat with my friend over tea...”

Fifth step: “...I hope she felt the same.”

Third step: “I must tell B about the door... no, not again! You can't, he's dead. Anyway, if he was here, he'd know about the door. You stupid woman!”

Bottom step: “Why does my brain do this?”

Into the kitchen: Anger – “Why didn't he tell me about these things to do with the house, the stopcock, fuse boxes, etc? Why am I even thinking this, I know about the stop cock and fuse boxes, he didn't need to tell me! You're so stupid...”

At the kettle: “I miss him so much!” - tears (again!) 

I know it's stupid, I know it's not logical... it's mad... but still it happens... from happy to sad in just over thirteen steps.

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