Kerryn WoodI cracked the shits with life today...
May 28th 2008 05:15
I cracked the shits with life at 12:25 pm today.
Nothing has gone right from the moment I woke up.
To start my mourning, the alarm went off at 6:20am - an hour too early - ((or so I thought)) - to the piercing sounds of the shrill bastard-of-an-invention alarm clock. It scared the life out me and as my heart pounded through my chest I threw my arm forcefully over to hit the off button, but missed and it collided with the glass of water I had sitting beside the clock.
The water did not spill over and onto the wall, or the carpet, or into my drawer of undies and bra's, no, the water cascaded lovingly all over me lying in bed, a nice, warm and cosy bed - until that moment.
I screamed, sat bolt up-right and gasped for air in both anger and the realisation of just how bloody cold that water was and that the volume of said glass was apparently quite full and I was now a lot wetter than I had first thought.
Cold, wet, tired and angry I stomped out of bed. I threw all the wet stuff in the corner, grabbed the spare blankets, put on a dry shirt and jumped back into bed for the extra hour of sleep. When I next awoke, I realised that now I'd slept through my alarm ((that evidentially I had forgotten to set)) and was going to be late, very late. I'd be in trouble.
I raced into the shower, and if I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the Devil himself had it in for me this day. In the shower, I got soap in my eyes and bumped my head on the shower caddy as I bent to pick up the shampoo bottle that I had dropped and spilled on the floor. Of course I slipped on the soapy suds all slippery and slimy, which sent shock waves of adrenalin straight up my spine and into the back of my neck. I stood still regaining my breath and waiting for the feelings of dread to subside; I didn't bother washing my hair - time was running out.
I got out of the shower and couldn’t find a towel. Luckily I live alone so I could make the short walk from bathroom to bedroom naked, found a towel, which was a bit damp and smelly, and dried myself as best I could. I noticed the time and calculated that basically, I had to get my ass into gear.
I dressed into a pair of work pants and put on a shirt with a dirty mark - a dirty big mark that I wouldn't find till someone would point it out to me later in the day. It took another ten minutes to find a missing shoe, packed my handbag with purse, mobile and keys. Keys….? Where were the freaking keys??
“OH COME ON!!” I yelled into the empty room and my keys heard, got scared and hid themselves really well. I searched and looked and lifted up bits of paper, went from room to room and checked all the ‘usual’ key hidey holes. Nothing. I stopped to think. Still nothing. Hardly surprising - mornings were never my best time of day.
I picked up my handbag and shook it - I heard keys rattling. I dived inside the bag and fossicked around like a madwomen on speed, till I located the blasted things. Then I got my hair caught in the zip.
With little time to spare, and with an obvious moment of brainage-malfunction, I somehow decided now was a good time to do some last minute housework. I quickly packed some dishes in the dishwasher and called out to the cat so I could feed her. I closed the dishwasher and pressed the wash button. Puss would have to starve for the day. At least there would be clean dishes when I came home tonight.
Finally it was time to go, I got in the car, started it up, and noticed the E for "Eternally Empty" flashing on the fuel gage. I swore. It was only a little swear though. It only had four letters.
I drove to the petrol station and lined up in the queue along with ten or so of the other cars. The line I picked had a caravan, a boat and a little old lady from Slowsville in it. Why did I pick that particular line? Must be another morning time brain malfunction.
I got petrol and joined another queue to pay. I handed over the petrol-guy the only bit of cash in my purse, and my stomach grumbled loudly, much to his amusement.
I'd have to do Macca's this morning, it was my only choice. I went to the drive through, ordered, then drove on to the next window to pay the lady. Shit! No money in my purse - I’d spent it at the petrol station. Damn it. I apologised to the Macca's lady, profusely and embarrassingly - and not for the last time today, and went to park my car in the parking lot. I'd have to go in and use my card. God I was going to be so late. Must add ‘new brain’ to shopping list this week.
Thankfully the queue was small inside the store, and I got my brekkie and drove off without hassle- things may have been looking up - but then the coffee spilled out of the cup and onto the floor of my newly cleaned car - I wouldn't be having my caffeine hit just yet; although I would be inhaling the fumes the entire way to work.
The caravan, boat and little old lady from Slowsville were on the road in front of me as I drove on the highway to work. I swore underneath my breath at them all, and then as the smell of coffee wafted up my nostrils for the third time in as many minutes, I got cranky and swore a little louder. This morning I wasn’t being polite either. The four letter words were being repeated, and they had companions.
There would be an overtaking lane coming soon - wouldn't there?
There was, and I overtook caravan, boat and little old lady. I was tempted to drive past all three giving them the bird - but I’m a lady, and we don't do those sorts of things now do we? Swearing in the privacy of your own car is however, acceptable.
Finally I got to work - late, very late. The phone was ringing as I puffed my way inside the building, answered it, it was my boss. You're late! she informed me, and again, I apologised profusely.
I turned on the computers and attempted to log into the system, only to discover it was down. I waited. Ten minutes, still waiting, system still down. Got out the emergency sheet of paper in readiness for a day of no computer (jesus, no computer, better get out the panadol, chocolate biscuits and espresso - it's gunna be a long, dull day...) opened up the front doors, put on a smile, computer came back online.
Phew.......
The morning progressed hassle free - for an hour.
I was busting for the toilet. I really needed to go, there weren't many people around, so I thought I’d take advantage of the quiet. I walked toward the staff loo, just about got there and was asked, 'where are the books on philosophy love?" I hurriedly pointed in the general direction and explained that I would return momentarily to help the lady further. I was still talking to the lady when I extended my arm to push open what I thought was the toilet door, and set off the buildings alarm. I'd accidentally opened the emergency exit door. It was the most incredibly ear piercing, high pitched and wailingly loud alarm I had ever heard - and it sent patrons running!!
Being relatively new to the building, I didn't have a clue what to do. My patrons had either left in a hurry or were cowering in corners, hands placed firmly over their ears and their brows heavily furrowed. Meanwhile, I acted oh-so incredibly professional as I flapped around like a mad idiot trying to find the off button and screaming out to anyone I could for help. No button could be found and no help came. I was doomed!!
The alarm rang and rang and rang and finally someone from the building next door arrived and turned it off. Apparently, all I needed to do, was punch in the “very easy to remember” code - 123, and push 'off' - 'it was very easy', apparently, 'even a child could manage', I was told. Next, the police arrived.
The two officers did their routine inspection, while I stood apologising profusely and embarrassingly assuring them that yes, it was my fault, an accident, very sorry, I know, 123, punch in the code, yep, even a child could remember that, ha ha ha, I know, yes very loud, Oooo yes I can imagine, time wasting, ooohhh I know, very sorry, yes, wont happen again, yes, of course, it's 123 push the button. Right you are. ta ta......Thankyou, sorry, bye bye…..
And then it was lunch time.
I walked up the street and went to the bank where I attempted to pay for a purchase I’d made on eBay over the weekend. My bank wouldn't do the transaction. She suggested to try the credit union across the road. Nope, we can't do it either, try the post office. No, sorry, we don't do that, what about internet banking? Went back to my bank and asked to set up internet banking. Sure, she said, but it wont help with your deposit, we just DON'T DO THAT !! If I rang the bank in South Australia perhaps they could help me? I didn’t pay for my purchase. There’d be no funky black knee high boots anytime soon.
I stormed back to work with ten minutes left to eat my lunch. I nuked last nights less than appetising left-overs in the microwave and accidentally burnt it. I threw it in the bin and made a coffee; the milk was off. I sighed and swore one last time for the day. Which was good, because I was sick of saying cunt for the day. There was five minutes left of my lunch hour and my stomach growled like a bear at an all you can eat buffalo buffet.
I went to my purse, got out the ten dollars I had drawn out from Macca’s this morning, walked up the street and went to the chocolate shop. I purchased a box of chocolates and when the shop girl asked me if she’d like me to wrap them, I didn’t hesitate in saying yes.
I walked back to work, placed the box on the table and sit and stared at it for a few minutes before smiling rather broadly, then ripping open the pretty pink packaging and tossing it in the bin.
I thoroughly enjoyed my box of chocolates for lunch and didn't share a single one. The rest of the day went without incident. Until I got home.
Walking in the door, a strange smell greeted me. I called out to Puss, she didn’t come. Silly cat, most likely asleep.
The dishwasher, finished it’s cycle long ago, was ready to be unpacked. I opened the door and dry retched as the smell of wet, soggy dead animal smell flew up and assaulted my nostrils. I had found Puss. The dishes needed another wash.
Nothing has gone right from the moment I woke up.
To start my mourning, the alarm went off at 6:20am - an hour too early - ((or so I thought)) - to the piercing sounds of the shrill bastard-of-an-invention alarm clock. It scared the life out me and as my heart pounded through my chest I threw my arm forcefully over to hit the off button, but missed and it collided with the glass of water I had sitting beside the clock.
The water did not spill over and onto the wall, or the carpet, or into my drawer of undies and bra's, no, the water cascaded lovingly all over me lying in bed, a nice, warm and cosy bed - until that moment.
I screamed, sat bolt up-right and gasped for air in both anger and the realisation of just how bloody cold that water was and that the volume of said glass was apparently quite full and I was now a lot wetter than I had first thought.
Cold, wet, tired and angry I stomped out of bed. I threw all the wet stuff in the corner, grabbed the spare blankets, put on a dry shirt and jumped back into bed for the extra hour of sleep. When I next awoke, I realised that now I'd slept through my alarm ((that evidentially I had forgotten to set)) and was going to be late, very late. I'd be in trouble.
I raced into the shower, and if I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the Devil himself had it in for me this day. In the shower, I got soap in my eyes and bumped my head on the shower caddy as I bent to pick up the shampoo bottle that I had dropped and spilled on the floor. Of course I slipped on the soapy suds all slippery and slimy, which sent shock waves of adrenalin straight up my spine and into the back of my neck. I stood still regaining my breath and waiting for the feelings of dread to subside; I didn't bother washing my hair - time was running out.
I got out of the shower and couldn’t find a towel. Luckily I live alone so I could make the short walk from bathroom to bedroom naked, found a towel, which was a bit damp and smelly, and dried myself as best I could. I noticed the time and calculated that basically, I had to get my ass into gear.
I dressed into a pair of work pants and put on a shirt with a dirty mark - a dirty big mark that I wouldn't find till someone would point it out to me later in the day. It took another ten minutes to find a missing shoe, packed my handbag with purse, mobile and keys. Keys….? Where were the freaking keys??
“OH COME ON!!” I yelled into the empty room and my keys heard, got scared and hid themselves really well. I searched and looked and lifted up bits of paper, went from room to room and checked all the ‘usual’ key hidey holes. Nothing. I stopped to think. Still nothing. Hardly surprising - mornings were never my best time of day.
I picked up my handbag and shook it - I heard keys rattling. I dived inside the bag and fossicked around like a madwomen on speed, till I located the blasted things. Then I got my hair caught in the zip.
With little time to spare, and with an obvious moment of brainage-malfunction, I somehow decided now was a good time to do some last minute housework. I quickly packed some dishes in the dishwasher and called out to the cat so I could feed her. I closed the dishwasher and pressed the wash button. Puss would have to starve for the day. At least there would be clean dishes when I came home tonight.
Finally it was time to go, I got in the car, started it up, and noticed the E for "Eternally Empty" flashing on the fuel gage. I swore. It was only a little swear though. It only had four letters.
I drove to the petrol station and lined up in the queue along with ten or so of the other cars. The line I picked had a caravan, a boat and a little old lady from Slowsville in it. Why did I pick that particular line? Must be another morning time brain malfunction.
I got petrol and joined another queue to pay. I handed over the petrol-guy the only bit of cash in my purse, and my stomach grumbled loudly, much to his amusement.
I'd have to do Macca's this morning, it was my only choice. I went to the drive through, ordered, then drove on to the next window to pay the lady. Shit! No money in my purse - I’d spent it at the petrol station. Damn it. I apologised to the Macca's lady, profusely and embarrassingly - and not for the last time today, and went to park my car in the parking lot. I'd have to go in and use my card. God I was going to be so late. Must add ‘new brain’ to shopping list this week.
Thankfully the queue was small inside the store, and I got my brekkie and drove off without hassle- things may have been looking up - but then the coffee spilled out of the cup and onto the floor of my newly cleaned car - I wouldn't be having my caffeine hit just yet; although I would be inhaling the fumes the entire way to work.
The caravan, boat and little old lady from Slowsville were on the road in front of me as I drove on the highway to work. I swore underneath my breath at them all, and then as the smell of coffee wafted up my nostrils for the third time in as many minutes, I got cranky and swore a little louder. This morning I wasn’t being polite either. The four letter words were being repeated, and they had companions.
There would be an overtaking lane coming soon - wouldn't there?
There was, and I overtook caravan, boat and little old lady. I was tempted to drive past all three giving them the bird - but I’m a lady, and we don't do those sorts of things now do we? Swearing in the privacy of your own car is however, acceptable.
Finally I got to work - late, very late. The phone was ringing as I puffed my way inside the building, answered it, it was my boss. You're late! she informed me, and again, I apologised profusely.
I turned on the computers and attempted to log into the system, only to discover it was down. I waited. Ten minutes, still waiting, system still down. Got out the emergency sheet of paper in readiness for a day of no computer (jesus, no computer, better get out the panadol, chocolate biscuits and espresso - it's gunna be a long, dull day...) opened up the front doors, put on a smile, computer came back online.
Phew.......
The morning progressed hassle free - for an hour.
I was busting for the toilet. I really needed to go, there weren't many people around, so I thought I’d take advantage of the quiet. I walked toward the staff loo, just about got there and was asked, 'where are the books on philosophy love?" I hurriedly pointed in the general direction and explained that I would return momentarily to help the lady further. I was still talking to the lady when I extended my arm to push open what I thought was the toilet door, and set off the buildings alarm. I'd accidentally opened the emergency exit door. It was the most incredibly ear piercing, high pitched and wailingly loud alarm I had ever heard - and it sent patrons running!!
Being relatively new to the building, I didn't have a clue what to do. My patrons had either left in a hurry or were cowering in corners, hands placed firmly over their ears and their brows heavily furrowed. Meanwhile, I acted oh-so incredibly professional as I flapped around like a mad idiot trying to find the off button and screaming out to anyone I could for help. No button could be found and no help came. I was doomed!!
The alarm rang and rang and rang and finally someone from the building next door arrived and turned it off. Apparently, all I needed to do, was punch in the “very easy to remember” code - 123, and push 'off' - 'it was very easy', apparently, 'even a child could manage', I was told. Next, the police arrived.
The two officers did their routine inspection, while I stood apologising profusely and embarrassingly assuring them that yes, it was my fault, an accident, very sorry, I know, 123, punch in the code, yep, even a child could remember that, ha ha ha, I know, yes very loud, Oooo yes I can imagine, time wasting, ooohhh I know, very sorry, yes, wont happen again, yes, of course, it's 123 push the button. Right you are. ta ta......Thankyou, sorry, bye bye…..
And then it was lunch time.
I walked up the street and went to the bank where I attempted to pay for a purchase I’d made on eBay over the weekend. My bank wouldn't do the transaction. She suggested to try the credit union across the road. Nope, we can't do it either, try the post office. No, sorry, we don't do that, what about internet banking? Went back to my bank and asked to set up internet banking. Sure, she said, but it wont help with your deposit, we just DON'T DO THAT !! If I rang the bank in South Australia perhaps they could help me? I didn’t pay for my purchase. There’d be no funky black knee high boots anytime soon.
I stormed back to work with ten minutes left to eat my lunch. I nuked last nights less than appetising left-overs in the microwave and accidentally burnt it. I threw it in the bin and made a coffee; the milk was off. I sighed and swore one last time for the day. Which was good, because I was sick of saying cunt for the day. There was five minutes left of my lunch hour and my stomach growled like a bear at an all you can eat buffalo buffet.
I went to my purse, got out the ten dollars I had drawn out from Macca’s this morning, walked up the street and went to the chocolate shop. I purchased a box of chocolates and when the shop girl asked me if she’d like me to wrap them, I didn’t hesitate in saying yes.
I walked back to work, placed the box on the table and sit and stared at it for a few minutes before smiling rather broadly, then ripping open the pretty pink packaging and tossing it in the bin.
I thoroughly enjoyed my box of chocolates for lunch and didn't share a single one. The rest of the day went without incident. Until I got home.
Walking in the door, a strange smell greeted me. I called out to Puss, she didn’t come. Silly cat, most likely asleep.
The dishwasher, finished it’s cycle long ago, was ready to be unpacked. I opened the door and dry retched as the smell of wet, soggy dead animal smell flew up and assaulted my nostrils. I had found Puss. The dishes needed another wash.
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Comment by Mydlyk
I've made the mistake of getting up on many occasions to experience days like this one...
... not again for me... ever.