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| Rye Harbour/29 Dec 2019 |
At 8 a.m. on Friday i received a text message from someone i know a little – North American, runs, has a dog – which said happy Birthday Chris.
Cool I thought; it’s not my birthday but I’m happy with the happy.
I replied as such, « I’ll take the happy and forget the birthday ».
Then I went to work.
By lunch time everyone at the office believed it was my birthday, because the person i know a little, told someone who should have known better, who told everyone that they met and suddenly everyone was wishing me a happy day.
I felt i should say something.
‘It’s not my birthday but thank you for all the good wishes.’
And by now there was a wrapped pair of avocado festooned socks in my pigeon hole.
I sent an e-mail to the north-american dog loving runner explaining their mistake.
They replied – ‘oh, it must be next Friday then! »
It’s not, but i thought, hey, I’m happy to have a birthday every week.
It takes the pressure off.
And I need new socks.
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