Sit

A whirlwind left the office about 30 minutes ago. Marie - co-dweller, office-sharer and many things to many people - was having a stressy day. Into many pies hath she thrust her fingers. Occasionally, this finger-thrusting pie-orientation gets a bit out of hand - she is prone to booking weekends way in advance that later leads to the donning of so many hats in such short spaces of time that she ends up cutting a dizzy chameleon dash. About 5 minutes before leaving the office, she started to visibly huff and puff. At one point, I heard her bark at her computer monitor - generally not a good sign. This is all the more entertaining (I'm such a bad person), because I have so often heard friends and colleagues remark on how utterly on top of everything and in-control she is - which admittedly, she often is. It's just that, even plate-spinners have their limits. Upon hearing a sigh in amongst the frenetic whatnot, I dared to ask:

Shane: How are things?
Marie: Oh I don't know. Bad. Good. Soon-to-be good. I've got too much on at the moment - all my own fault. Though I can see things being lighter next week.
Shane: Good. What have you been doing?
Marie: Mostly dumping voluntary stuff that I've run out of steam with.
Shane: Right.
Marie: I've got too much on. October's now fully booked up, I've kept one weekend free in November, but gladly December isn't looking too busy at the moment.
Shane: 'At the moment'.
Marie: Yeah. I sent Soph' a stressy email this morning - usual piffle about how I'm going to start saying 'no' more often.
Shane: Got to work on being nasty.
Marie: Exactly. No more Mrs Nice-Guy...-ess.
Shane: Quite.
Marie: Told her that I've got to stop planning ahead as it's just putting me under too much pressure to travel (to see people). Need to consciously sit down and do nothing from time to time.
Shane: Sounds healthy.
Marie: Yeah. I'm gonna go up and see her in December. (Checks time) Oh fuck - how can it be that time already.

And she was gone. Soon after, I received a text. It read: 'Just realised how dim that last sentence must have sounded. Next time you see me make me sit down for 15 minutes.' One minute later I received another text: '...unless the house is on fire. And sitting on the toilet doesn't count!'.

Our's is a house of high culture.