Some days you really just shouldn't get out of bed

6 June 2009, 07:26

It started with a disorganised flair – I didn’t get out of the house until 9.30 so started work at 10:00. No-one at the office minded – I have had brain surgery after all.

From the moment I set foot in my building, it went downhill.

The rotating doors decided to stop just as I stepped in, only for a few seconds, but long enough for me to go all WTF.

As I’m an irregular player in the office, I have been hotdesking but there is a suite of docking stations I can usually use. None of them worked. I went over to my team to ask whether one of us possibly wasn’t in the office – luck! Tried to log into the first one, the screen was dead. Second one, the docking station was dead. By this time I’d tried 4 computers and vowed if the 5th one didn’t work I was going home. Happily the 5th one was a winner.

Lunchtime. Pottered down to Collins Place to look for gloves for Scout’s tiny hands. No luck. Went to have lunch at the foodcourt and I sat down to eat my tikka masala wrap (yes, weird, I know) at a tiny table. The space I had to get out was minimal as I was sitting between the table and the wall. There was a woman a couple of tables up and as I stood to try to get out, my chair (accidentally) went into her arm. I apologised. No response. The woman kept on eating her lunch. Thinking maybe she hadn’t heard me, I apologised again. Again, no response. OK, whatever. Then, as I squeeze past her, my back is suddenly whacked with the motherload force of whatever the hell was in her bag. I whirl around and say “That was quite unnecessary!” (yes, I did say “quite” – I don’t work on Collins Street for nuthin’) and she returns rudely “Well! You tried to break my arm!!!” Ooooookay.

I’m walking back from lunch up Collins Street, when I feel a little bit uncomfortably strange on my legs. My tights had released themselves from their safe haven and started to inch their way down my legs. By the time I was a block away they had fallen halfway down my thighs, perilously close to peeking out from beneath the hem of my dress. I had two choices, hope to hell they didn’t fall any further or make one puppy of a social faux-pas and do the tight-grab in the middle of Collins Street. Problem was, the tight-grab would have been too vulgar a display given the current location of said tights, so #1 was the only choice. Happily, they stayed put.

I left work around 3pm, quite late for me, but we had some important stuff to do. I think to myself “Bloody Hell I deserve some Haighs chocolate! While I’m there, I might pick myself up some chocolate coffee beans for tomorrow’s trip to the farm!” Thankful I’m at least about to get me some chocolate, I step into Haighs, just as a shop assistant goes to shut the door on my face. “Fire Alarm. We need to evacuate!” I just looked at her like a stunned mullet.

It had just summed up my day.

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