The alarm is going off. Three snoozes and I'm waking up. I'm going to the mirror: still fat. 30 minutes of gymnastics, double on hips and buttocks. The mirror again, wrinkles, dark circles, make-up. Finally breakfast. Today we're having fruits, yogurt and black tea. Very healthy. The same as yesterday, and as the day before.
I know he is only pretending to eat, he is still sleeping. So we're not talking much. I'm starting to think about us. Party is over. Now we are old and boring. Sometimes I think people avoid us because we are too self-sufficient. I laugh at his stupid jokes, he can bear my stupid questions. We are like a puzzle which is already been solved. What if all this crap about children choosing their parents before being born is true? Poor child would think we don't need anyone and will decide to stay on haven forever! Panic!
- Do you think we are likeable people?
- I think in five minutes you're gonna be late.
I don't want to be late. I have to run.
- How old are you? - the aged Afghan doctor asks me.
- I'm 39.
- Do you have children.
- No, I don't.
- Don't you want them?
- Yes, I do. But I can't.
And I'm giving him my best fake tragic smile. I feel when people need it. Now he's looking sad and sympathetic. It was a bad idea. I've made him upset.
- You know, doctors nowadays do amazing things...
- I know, doctor, thank you. Not in my case.
I obviously look annoyed because I see him tensely trying to change the subject. Unsuccessfully.
- Believe me, children today are a burden. One is ok. But two are already too much. I wouldn't recommend...
- Do you have children, doctor?
- Yes, I have four.
I am starting to laugh and he becomes apologetic. He looks me in the eyes and asks:
- So... the urine test?