So my laptop now needs replacing. That makes seven things.
Also, in the last fortnight, my mum’s called with news of a close relative attempting suicide and another being diagnosed with breast cancer. My responses to these separate pieces of news very quickly turned from “Oh my goodness, how is she?!” to “Oh my goodness, what does that mean for me?” and then to “Oh my goodness, I’m so disgustingly self-centred.” I now feel a bolt of panic each time I see mum’s name appear on my ringing phone (WHAT’S HAPPENED NOW? I think immediately). You can't get anxious about this, I then think. That would be making this a you-issue, and this isn't about you. Two weeks ago there was no cancer in my family, and now there’s cancer in my family. Apparently it takes three people with cancer for it to be counted as “a family history of cancer,” but maybe I’ll be the second of those three, and my mum or one of my sisters will be the third? Maybe by the time Hazel’s my age there’ll be a family history of cancer. But you don’t have cancer, I tell myself. THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU.