So, I'm in the shower this morning, which is one of my superfast showers - no more than seven minutes as the egg's poaching and the bread is in the toaster - and I'm doing that terrible thing again: thinking. I keep telling myself not to think as it's caused me nothing but grief in the past. But still I do it. Perhaps I ought to attend Thinker's Anonymous. Yeah anyway, what I'm thinking, in between rinsing shampoo out of my eyes, is that maybe the urge to constantly define mental illness is an illness in itself. I then think that the urge to define a person who defines mental illness as mentally ill could also be construed as an illness. Already I'm perplexed - and I've still got bloody shampoo in my eye. But you can see what I mean about thinking being bad for you. Anyway, all of a sudden there's a clattering sound and I wonder what I've knocked over. I then look down and, in the shower-tray is a round shiny bit of metal. My first thought is that a part has fallen out of the shower head. But when I bend down - cue jokes about bending down in the showers - and pick it up I discover it's a 20p piece. My first thought is: Where the bloody hell has that come from? I mean where on earth does a bloody 20p come from when you're totally naked in the shower? We don't keep money in the bathroom. Any coins I have are in my wallet. There's no hole in the ceiling where money could have dropped through. Complete bloody mystery.
The only slight possibility is that maybe having lain earlier on the bed for a kip then there's a slight chance that a 20p may, may have fallen out of my wallet and ended up under the covers. I could then have lain on it during the night for it to get stuck to my torso, though I don't think that I'm that thick skinned not to have felt it. Weird. Bloody weird.