Sensitivity is agony. In moderation it¡¯s good, but moderation rarely knows when to stop, and soon becomes excess. Excessive sensitivity is a theme taken up by Spa magazine this month.

Really, it¡¯s better to be a clod. Your intellect may be sluggish and your imagination dull, you won¡¯t set the world on fire, but the world doesn¡¯t set you on fire either. You get through the day more or less intact, and through the night asleep. It is quite otherwise with the people Spa labels ¡°oversensitive.¡± For them, every received email is a veiled snub, every overheard remark an implied threat, every situation an insurmountable challenge. Noise is an assault, light an invasion, a ringing office telephone an invitation to a nervous breakdown.

Everything has hidden meaning, invariably sinister. The client I emailed this morning ¡ª it¡¯s now afternoon, why hasn¡¯t she replied? She¡¯s busy? Maybe ... or maybe she no longer wants to deal with me? Maybe my note wasn¡¯t clear? Maybe it smacked (certainly not intentionally!) of sexual harassment? Maybe I sent it to the wrong person, who is even at this very moment puzzling over what I meant, or who I am, while the intended recipient is wondering why I haven¡¯t contacted her?