One of ‘those’ days.
You know those mornings when you open your eyes and immediately things start going wrong?
As I write this it’s not even 10.00 a.m. and this is what happened:
6.15 Stagger from bed to look for husband who is on his way out the drive (I establish this fact from small balcony view from bedroom) ‘Where are you going so early?’ I ask. The answer, conference preparation, apparently urgent.
6.20 I decide to make the most of the early start. Turn on my writing room light. ‘PING’ light globe blows. (Very high light and awkward fittings so there’s no hope of me getting that fixed today.) Turn on lamp.
6.30 Turn on computer. Warning box jumps at me from the screen. ‘No!’ I groan.
6.35 Turn on Ipad to at least check emails. A different warning screen jumps at me. ‘Is this for real?’ I scream out to anyone who’ll listen.
6.45 Decide to wait for the household computer adviser (son) to wake
7.15 Builders arrive to continue erecting new back deck (work yesterday was canceled due to rain.)
7.30 I remember I have to drop my car at the service station for regular service but also to check on car instrument panel (yesterday all my dashboard gauges had a hissy-fit i.e. told me I had a full tank of petrol (I knew I didn’t), told me I was traveling at zero kilometres an hour when I was moving, my taco was doing some sort of wild dance and my temperature gauge was as high as it would go.
8.00 Leave my car at service station after long chat with mechanic about dashboard issues then begin the hour long walk home along muddy paths in my brand new used-to-be-white runners. Talk to son on mobile who tells me computer messages sound ‘very serious.’
9.00 Arrive home to be greeted by the builder who says ‘I’ve got some bad news!’ . . . . by now I wasn’t smiling any more but as it turned out the bad news was easily fixed by chopping the balcony back a little so it will now resemble a Juliette Balcony (not so bad at all.)
9.15 I ring Computer Help. Explain the issues with my laptop and Ipad. Silence. Thinking. Computer help take charge of my computer. Then I hear ‘Can you hold the line for a minute, I just need to check something?’
9.20 While I’m hanging on the line, there’s a knock at the front door. ‘Fantastic my book stocks of Hey Baby and Queenie have arrived from Sydney’ . . . I think.
WRONG. It’s my neighbour who is moving soon and has offered her prized record collection to my nephew. However, I only know it’s my neighbour because I’m peeping out my study window because my son has inadvertently dead-locked the front door and I can’t let her in. And of course my keys are back at the service station with my car and the builder has my spare key.
9.25 I ask my neighbour, (through the window), to leave the records at the front door for now and I’ll get them later when I retrieve my key from the builder.
9.30 A kindergarten teacher drops in to pick up a copy of Hey Baby – no hiccups.
10.00 I visit my library bookmobile and hope the book delivery doesn’t arrive while I’m away.