The Thought

I'm in my own mind and it's not a good place to be. Nothing good goes on in here. 

I pick my iPhone up and start reading. Put it down again. Can't focus. 

Mary walks in, sit down. So I sit back down. My right leg is bouncing. 

—Love? 

—Yeah?

—Your leg, it's doing that thing.

—Oh yeah. Sorry. 

She smiled. I stopped it bouncing. It does that. When I wander around in my thoughts. Bad move. Get out. Past experience tells me. I pick my iPhone up again. read the news. Nope. Look at the pictures instead. 

—You alright, Love? 

—yeah, yeah, grand. 

—Stop over-thinking. 

—Nah, I'm not—

—Bullshit. I know you are. 

She's right. A thing at work today. Annoyed me. Made me feel like I'd done a shit job. I hadn't. But still. I closed my eyes, did the breathing thing. Long breath in for five seconds. Long breath out for eight. 

Better. I did it again. How they taught me to do it. The counsellors. Shit, I shouldn't have said that. Didn't want to let that out. 

My right leg bounced. 

—Oi! You are doing it again.

—Ah, yeah. 

I grabbed my leg. Stopped it. Went back into my mental toolbox. There's a tool in there. Called ten-something. Yeah, that's it. Did that work thing matter 10 minutes later? Will it matter in 10 months, or 10 years? 

Ah, that's better. Like shit it will. Move on. Nobody died. That's the thing with thinking. It's overrated. I'm better at doing. So I grab my laptop. And start typing. 

—Are you writing it out of you?

—Er, yeah, I reckon so. 

—Great idea, love. You'll feel better. 

She's right. I know she is. I write like a man possessed. It's likely to be complete bollocks. I won't publish it. But that's not the point. The point is to get it out my head. 

Ha. I did publish it in the end. 

You've read it.