I'm still a little rundown from yesterday's bout with, let's say, food poisoning, so the news that today is my company's birthday celebration for the month, and that I will, as usual, be expected to emcee the proceedings, fills me with a small but definite feeling of dread.
Apathy and depression well up in my guts (precisely where I was feeling worst yesterday, which should be a clue), and I message Katie, wondering how I'm going to muster the enthusiasm to sing and dance and serve cake and do my duty.
"pooks," she writes, "think of the people who are excited to have their birthdays celebrated!"
Which is, of course, exactly the right thing to say, because I know how excited I would be, and, after a deep breath, I go in to the board room where everyone is waiting, and the smile on my face is genuine and unforced.
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