That evening, as I was pushing the mess around my flat like a half-arsed Sisyphus, I got a text and an attachment from Oliver. And was briefly really excited until I found myself staring into the kindly, twinkly eyes of the late Sir Richard Attenborough. Wtf is this? I sent back. A dick pic. You are not funny, I told him, laughing. And I definitely don’t miss you now A few minutes later: I’m glad you chose to reach out to your father. I’m not I can see you’re handling this well. I’m insecure. Tell me how mature I’m being I think—and somehow I could hear him like a voice-over—genuinely mature
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Sisyphus /ˈsisəfəs / ‹Greek Mythology› the son of Aeolus, punished in Hades for his misdeeds in life by being condemned to the eternal task of rolling a large stone to the top of a hill, from which it always rolled down again.
In Greek mythology, Sisyphus or Sisyphos (/ˈsɪsɪfəs/ ⓘ; Ancient Greek: Σίσυφος, romanized: Sísyphos) is the founder and king of Ephyra (now known as Corinth). He reveals Zeus's abduction of Aegina to the river god Asopus, thereby incurring Zeus's wrath. His subsequent cheating of death earns him eternal punishment in the underworld, once he dies of old age. The gods forced him to roll an immense boulder up a hill only for it to roll back down every time it neared the top, repeating this action for eternity. Through the classical influence on contemporary culture, tasks that are both laborious and futile are therefore described as Sisyphean (/sɪsɪˈfiːən/).[2]
