Des

Between bites of peri-peri chicken and sips of Coke Zero, my friend Des asked me if I was happy. She - amongst all my long term friends - complains the least about my propensity to wall them off from the reality that is in my head, but from time to time she insists we meet to ‘catch up’. These meetings haven’t happened a lot recently - thanks to her juggling a return to full time employment with an energetic three year old, and travelling. Skipping merrily through town, as she is wont to these days, she asked if I was up for a bite and a drink, which I accepted. We ordered the usual - a platter to share, bottomless drinks and sides of rice and settled in to talk about the minutiae of life, and all the quotidian pleasures we have enjoyed in the year so far. Then - out of the blue - she asked if I was happy. I suspect I managed to side track her question by rolling out my usual spiel about life being what it was - normal and mundane without anything out of the ordinary. ...