I peed too loudly and woke the cat. I stubbed my toe (predictably). I opened the door to the post woman and realised too late that I was not wearing clothes (I thought she was you. She looked like you. When you carry your big bag). There wasn’t even any post for me, it was all for you. I dripped toothpaste on my tie, then I dropped my toothbrush outside whilst closing the window (and the brush was picked up by a crafty wheeler-dealer fox who traded it for woodland sweeties and the brush was traded again and again until a bird got hold of it and it ended up in Nova Scotia and I had no hope of getting it back). I made toast and jam and thought that nothing could go wrong but once I had spread the butter on the toast I threw the knife in the washing up and had to get another one from the drawer to spread jam with and had to tell myself off silently. I got a wrinkle in my sock, which made me walk uncomfortably and caused me to step on a snail and it cracked and squished (sorry). All the post that came for you caused my brain to become fogged up (or maybe it was fogged up before that). I had become a menace to other pedestrians. I was so fogged up that I could barely think where I was going.
So I stopped along the way and sat down and when someone came to ask me I told them and a few minutes later they brought it. The carrot cake was moist without being wet and when I sank the spoon in it pulled away softly and silently. There were bright orange strands of carrot darting through the rich, nutty cake and icing on top which was almost cheesecake. I ate it slowly with my spoon and the fog began to clear.