So here is the scene:
I’m in hospital, sitting in a chair. I have both arms out in front of me with 20 different liquid blobs and 20 different markers just begging for my skin to rebel with a rash. A little plastic pineapple timer counts down 15 minutes exposure from essence of birch tree to fluffy bunny.
Problem is this: I am late for a client. or at least I will be when they release me. My phone is by my foot. It might as well be on Mars. Cue a whole barrage of stressful thoughts, imagined futures, imagined text messages, imagined running home, rescheduling and generally grovelling It’s a whole horror movie in my head. And there is nothing I can do.
But there is. Do I continue to run the movie? If I am the creator of this, could I run something else more appealing? Sure! Golden sand beach (middle of winter in Switzerland, so lets go with the classics). Next 10 minutes are spent with a smile on my face and a slightly itchy arm.