Skip to main content

Idiot me

Realised how utterly useless I am at navigation this morning when I tried to find the location for my morning appointment. Stood about feeling confused (where the f is building 8??) then realised that I was actually in the wrong area (Media City and Internet City - easily confused, right?). This was then followed by a sweaty panic whilst trying to find the other area - which on the map was practically next door - driving about cursing and attempting to follow stupid road signs that kept on inexplicably vanishing. I was finally forced to come to the unhappy conclusion that I was hopelessly lost.

End result? I had to be 'talked in' to actual meeting location over speaker phone. Humiliation - 1, Me - nil.

Think I made a brilliant impression all round, actually. Especially as I'd managed to spill Diet Coke down my top while making aforementioned sweaty curses, so arrived at meeting looking hot, bothered, hugely embarrassed and utterly disheveled (word of warning - don't try to get carbonated drink stains off silk with a baby wipe).

Kind of want today to just be over.

Comments

Meadows mummy said…
You were ace at the meeting tho! xx
9:18 am
Kate B. said…
Thanks MM, bless your kind soul. That might be hearsay though as, if I recall, my pissing about meant that you couldn't make the meeting! x
7:19 pm
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Grim Reaper

Firstborn is obsessed with death. It started with the odd comment, such as; "Mummy, what happens when you die?" OK, I thought, I was expecting this at some point, what a cute little curious brain she has. So I trotted out all the cosy Heaven stuff and left out all the things that could worry her, such as worms and bones and holes in the ground. This went down pretty well, although somehow Firstborn made the jump from my view of Heaven (filled with love, joy, always warm, never rains, has a huge discount designer shoe outlet and I never have to pay my Visa bill) to her own view of Heaven; a wonderous place where small girls don't have to eat their vegetables before they're allowed pudding, and where Barbie dolls grow on trees. Anyway, I digress. Last week Firstborn started shouting "Kill! Kill!" in a bloodthirsty tone while bashing her hithero-beloved teddy against the wall. This was topped by her purposely flushing her favourite My Little Pony down the loo. ...
11 comments
gimme more...

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...
13 comments
gimme more...