Disjointed

Turning over the morning paper frantically,searching for nothing.
A little tea and am too lazy to go for work.
I go back to bed,thinking whether it would be okay to skip.
It is nine in the morning.
The door bell rings,it is the milkman.
It rings again,the house helper.Thank god for her.
"What should i cook for breakfast?" she wants to know.
"Anything you like", i say.
I am new at this.
The sound of utensils clashing against each other before they hit the sink.
The smell of the half cooked food.
I am late,too late.
I call in sick at the office.
They understand that i am faking it,in their hearts they know.
They don't say because i am too good at what i do.
I hate my job and my life.
The phone rings,it is my father.
That is odd.He never calls at this time.
"How come you are not at work?"
I feel brave and stupid.
So i say," Did not feel like it."
Silence.No one speaks.
Feeling braver still, I lie that i have to go to the loo and i hang up.
Nothing makes sense but somehow everything does.
When did i become this person?