Me (to Alex): Do you have to be so shouty?

Alex: I’m Alex.

Me: I know.

Alex: Hello. Nice to meet you.

Me:…

Alex: Those who aren’t seen must be heard.

Emma (nodding):…

Me:…

Turned out I didn’t escape running into Pat after all, because she was in the back with Kate. Apparently she doesn’t really do the till anymore now, because she has taken on a more “administrative role” (pricing bric-a-brac).

She looked me up and down as usual, and it was so obvious that she had a million things to say about:

• my hair
• my face
• my school uniform
• my mere existence

I was just like: “Pat,” and she was just like: “Phoebe.”

Kate tried to talk me into staying and helping out, but I was like: “No thanks, I’m busy.” (lie)

She told me that Emma and Alex are really nice, and wouldn’t it be great to make new friends, but I was like: “Thanks, but I don’t need friends, because, you know, lesson learned.” Besides: Pat.

PS: On my way out of the shop, Emma was all friendly like: “Nice to meet you, Phoebe,” which confused me, because looking back now, maybe the way I spoke to Alex wasn’t ideal.

I ended up not saying anything to either of them when I left.

PPS: I think I’m socially awkward.

Friday, January 12 #DoubleStandards

It appears that now we no longer have to hunt for food, some people have become too stupid to even purchase food, and in my opinion this should affect evolution.

I watched a woman throw a massive tantrum at the shops today when she was asked to use a self-service checkout machine.

She was like: “I simply refuse to use these!”

I bet she wouldn’t “simply refuse” state-of-the-art keyhole surgery, though.

I wanted to message Polly about it, but I didn’t.

PS: Mum sent a WhatsApp this afternoon, but I haven’t looked at it.

Saturday, January 13 #DesignerCatHell

Since I’ve been seen taking the bus to and from school for a week, Polly has cleverly deduced that I’m at Kate’s, and so today she was like: “Is your mum away for long?”

Me: She’s gone to Syria, so who knows when she’ll get back. If she gets back.

Polly: Phoebe, don’t say that. You can’t say that.

Me: I just did.

I honestly expected more from Polly. What’s everyone’s problem with the truth?

Mum’s job is dangerous; we all know that. But instead of admitting it, everyone’s always like: She’ll be fine.

According to the internet, over four hundred thousand people have died so far in Syria. That’s almost the population of Manchester. And I’m sure all their friends and family were like: Oh, they’ll be fine.

It’s always other people until it isn’t.