1. ‘Wow, you’re still not sleeping, are you.’
Right. So on the surface, this is an acknowledgement of my brutal insomnia, which I do need acknowledged because my life, brain and soul is being destroyed by it. But what is really happening here is that you’re telling me to my face that I look horrendous. I would rather this was not acknowledged. You total bastard.
2. ‘I’m knackered.’
YOU HAVE NO IDEA, GET OUT OF MY FACE.
3. ‘You’d feel so much better if you meditated.’
Yes, I know I would. I would enter parallel planes and see exploding purple flowers and be nicer and not lose my temper and have seventy-five orgasms because I’m so connected to my inner self and the universe. My stress levels would decrease. Literally everything in my life would be infinitely improved. But I can’t be fucked. I just want to lie on the sofa looking at Sienna Miller’s new Instagram and thinking about hamburgers.
4. ‘Do you want to come to this party with me?’
Er, no I do not. Why can’t I stay in alone for the rest of my life? Why do I have to interact with other creatures? Why do you think I need to be asked by you to a party? Why do you think I haven’t already been asked to a party or that I’m busy because I’m throwing my own party? Whose party is it anyway? Why didn’t they invite me themselves? Why do I never get invited to parties? OMG, I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.
5. ‘You look nice.’
6. ‘I made you some Matcha tea.’
So I can leave your house feeling like I *personally* drained the swamp.
7. ‘Shall we try that new HIIT class together?’
8. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not ringing to cancel dinner.’
9. ‘I had a sex dream about Idris Elba last night!’
And I had dream about trying to build a Lego X-wing fighter with Donald Trump, who kept shouting at me, which then turned into a grade three piano exam, which I had to perform in front of AJ from the Backstreet Boys, who was crying and eating Wham bars for no reason. What’s your point?
10. ‘Sorry, I don’t have a light, I don’t smoke.’
Fine, I’ll die of lung cancer on my own and you can live until you’re 125 and get into the Guinness Book of Records while I get my ashes mixed up with Barry the long distance lorry driver and have my ashes tipped over a bridge on the M23 by Barry’s favourite service station.