I have lost something. I really can’t remember when I lost it, somewhere around the 2nd or 3rd perhaps? I have no idea where to start looking for it either – the Lost and Found counter at Euston Station? In the dark recesses of my cupboard – under a pile of crumpled shirts and trousers that don’t fit (but were a real bargain)?
Or should I rummage through the garbage – maybe I threw it out with the one million Pizza delivery mailers we get every week.
Perhaps you’ve seen what it is that I’ve lost. How do I describe it to you? It has no definite shape, size or colour – in fact you really can’t even see it. Neither can I for that matter. But I can sense it. When it’s there, it acts as an invisible cocoon against the cold, the bad news that’s on the television every day and the fact that I’m what seems like a million miles away from home. When it’s not there… I feel cold. Alone. I burst in to tears every now and then and drink too much coffee. I sit at work and think about being at home – snuggled under the duvet, drinking hot chocolate and watching bad, daytime television.
I’m peeling an orange right now. Maybe I’ll find it in the middle of one of the juicy, squashy, citric segments. Masquerading as a pip. Nope - not there either. I rummage through my bag – but all I find are old bills and even more pizza delivery flyers (they seem to be everywhere – telling me my New Year Resolution to avoid them is futile).
Should I go out and search in its favourite haunts? Maybe it’s window-shopping on King’s Road or having a big, fat cappuccino and buttered croissant at Patisserie Valerie.
Maybe I should put up some posters. Except instead of the usual adorable puppy or fat, one-eyed cat there will be a big blank space. And it will say
Last seen on 2nd January at 10:16 am.
If found please return to owner.
Considerable reward on offer.
So if you sense a shapeless, colourless, weightless, odourless something lurking in a shoe shop or eyeing a double cheese pizza – it’s mine.
It’s my good mood. And I’d like it back.