Remember Me?

by Sophie Kinsella

The longer the title, I’ve decided, the crappier the job.

Old memories and images from the past, flashing by in random order, like some kind of iPod shuffle in my brain.

It has to be karma. I must have been amazingly noble in a previous existence.

My theory is that if I lie still enough then maybe the maelstrom of my mind will calm down and everything will fall neatly into place.

The trouble with giving yourself a pep talk is, deep down you know it’s all bullshit.

The thing with giving up is then you never know. You never know whether you could have done the job.

But you can’t stay with people because of guilt. Or because they can drive a speedboat.