October 7. There’s a new advert for the Comedy Channel at Borough tube station:
According to some research that we just made up (I dropped the dog’s lead to write it down on my way home and an official comes up straight away and says, “excuse me sir, hold the dog’s lead at all times”) October is the second most depressing month of the year…
I wondered if that guy’s job was one of the 800 which are about to go. He had a microphone and spoke into it, saying, “let the passengers off the train before boarding”, even though it was late and there were only sixteen people and one dog strung out along the long platform. Then the train came in and I happened to sit next to a man reading ‘Your Dog’s Mind’, and he and I had a chat about our dogs’ minds.
Gail came along to Mint Street park this morning more agitated than usual because she’d just learnt that October was the second most depressing month of the year, evidence for her feelings of dread. And she’s already been to her homeopath and now she’s on the strongest dose. She burst into tears at the homeopath’s and couldn’t stop so the homeopath gave her some Batch (sic) flower remedies and called for an ambulance, they took her to the hospital and said she could spend the night there but it would have been a mixed ward so she went home. I couldn’t explain clearly enough what needed doing in the garden – you can pull up most of the feverfew, just leave a few, just the odd one / how many? / well, just three or four / which ones? / well, it doesn’t really matter, you decide / shall I leave this one? or this one? which ones do you want me to take out? In the end she took them all out. It seemed easier.
I said, I saw that poster on the tube. It was a joke. It was an advert for the Comedy Channel. She said, oh, I started to read it, then the train came in.