Boxes

I like to keep my life in boxes. I find it simpler that way. Less confusing.

For example, I don’t like to mix my work life with my non-work life. If a friend rings me at work I have to go to the toilet, to get away from my desk, from the people, so that I can pretend I’m in my friend box, not my work box.

I’d never introduce a friend from work to one of my local friends, or one of my university friends.  There was one time I was out on a works social and my friend Trisha walked into the bar. Luckily she didn’t see me, so I went to the toilet and climbed out of the window. A narrow escape.

I have five separate mobiles for work, family, local friends, university friends and one for relationships. Sometimes all the phones ring at once and I get into a right tizzy because I don’t know which box I’m in any more. Sometimes I switch off all my phones and pretend I’m completely boxless. It really helps clear the mind.

I literally use boxes as well, for all my filing. I have boxes for my work stuff, for my bills, for my bank and mortgage and a box for my writing. It’s easier that way, everything’s together.

I have a box for my ex-husband as well. It’s made of thick steel and vacuum-sealed so it won’t decompose. I just kept the head, the rest I buried in a safe corner of the woods where nobody would find it. I loved my husband dearly but he wouldn’t keep to his own box. He kept turning up at my work dos, gatecrashing my girls nights out, and then I caught him in bed with the twins, my best friends Angela and Karen, in our bed. That was breaching so many boxes I don’t even have words for it.

I have a box for the twins as well. I wanted to keep them in separate boxes, but their body parts got mixed up and it really is impossible to tell them apart. Even their elbows are identical, who knew that?

I have plenty of empty boxes too, just in case. You never know when you might need a box, as I’ve discovered.

Actually, this box here, it’s the perfect size for you. Come closer, let me show you.