There are some days where staying in bed probably would have been a great idea. Of course you don’t know that until you get up and the fun begins.
Mr D has now been home for a week after having been made redundant and there have been lots of discussions about what lies ahead. Part of the discussion has been about me going to work more often. For several reasons. It allows Mr D to have a long break from working, it preserves the nest egg and it gets me out of the house.
So late last week, I let my boss know that I could do a couple of extra days during the week and we decide that Wednesday would be good day to start.
Now because all day parking is a challenge (because it’s limited) in Canberra, my plan was to leave home at 6am and be in Civic before 7.30am.
I was up just before 5am, kettle on, coffee machine on, bed made (my lounge bed that is), lunch half prepared, clothes planned…..it was going well until Shanks unleashed what seemed like a weeks worth of poo (pellet style) from one end of the house to the other. I promise I am not exaggerating. It was all the way from the fire place in the lounge room, passed the dining room, through the kitchen and finished in the parent’s retreat. After kicking him out and cleaning up after him, I gobbled my breakfast (that Mr D had cooked for me), inhaled my coffee and continued to get ready. Departure time 6.30am.
It poured with rain on Wednesday, of course. Now I usually park in the Law Courts parking in Civic however it has a 4 hour limit and is just too expensive for a whole day. So I drove further around London Circuit and parked in the all day Wilson parking. It was still pouring, I might add. Arrival time 7.45am.
Now if I wasn’t already anxious enough, the machine to get the parking ticket is different to the one I am used to. I am second in a queue (trying to look like I have done this a thousand times before) watching the poor lady ahead of me try and negotiate the machine (obviously a first timer like me) with the rain making it almost impossible to see the screen. The lady behind me is standing in the rain with no umbrella so I offer to share mine. We chit chat and I explain to her that I haven’t used this machine before.
In the meantime, I can feel my fringe shrinking into a frizzy curl on my forehead due to all of the moisture. The curse of curly hair.
It’s now my turn at the machine. My fears were not unreasonable. I couldn’t see the screen. I didn’t know what I was doing. Panic was just about to strike when the lady I have shared my umbrella starts pressing the buttons on my behalf (of course an act of kindness…nothing to do with her drowning in the torrential rain and her being frustrated at my complete inability to operate the machine). So it was done, a ticket was born, I thank the lady and start breathing again.
After depositing the ticket on the dash of the car and collecting my bags, I start the 10 minute walk to the office. As I walk, I am mulling over the day, thinking about which clients I will work on, wishing the rain would bugger off for 5 minutes, when it dawns on me that I have entered MY number plate into the machine for the parking ticket. I didn’t drive my car that day, I had taken Mr D’s car. Shit! After a few seconds of irrational thought process, I decide that’s it only one letter different and hope that the ‘Brown Bomber’ (as they are affectionately known) has poor eyesight and there won’t be a parking fine attached to the windscreen when I return.
I did make it to work that day and the rest of it went quite smoothly, surprisingly. Often, as you know, a rough start to the day can often set the tone for the rest of it. Throughout the whole ordeal though, I was thinking I should have stayed in bed.
Do you have days like that? Tell me about your ordeal.
Redbacks and Floral Gumboots 