It is becoming increasingly clear to me that I am a kind of bogan Mrs
Bean. Hapless, awkward. Constantly doing bumbling, embarrassing things. Actually it’s been obvious for a long time.
Recent events have just emphasised this.
On the way out I spot the new alcohol section, a recent addition at my local Aldi. Deciding a five dollar bottle of plonk will be just the thing to help soothe my shattered nerves, I dump the groceries in the boot and head back in. Clutching my plonk, I join a queue yet again. I feel like I deserve a medal for bravery just for doing this simple task. Waiting in queues makes me feel ridiculously anxious for no reason. Clearly I am a thoroughly logical person. The young woman in front of me is holding the same bottle of plonk, The cashier asks for ID but doesn't ask me. I decide there are some distinct advantages to being an old bag as I leave with my plonk and the young woman leaves empty handed.
Arriving home I realise that I've forgotten approximately five things that were on the left-at-home list. I may have to face the joy of going back again. But why do today what you can put off for tomorrow?
Fast forward to this week and I have continued in my space cadet ways by finally remembering to take some gifts/items to post to online friends, which were promised months ago, and, in some cases, even, years ago. Then, en route to the post office I suddenly remembered I did not have the addresses to post them to with me. Additionally, I'd also forgotten my mobile, so I could not text them to ask their address. Sigh.
On the plus side, I managed to buy a lovely bogan outfit from Millers (tres classy) to wear to my sister in law's black and bling themed 40th birthday party, where, no doubt, I will sit quietly in the corner. But, at least I will be sitting quietly in the corner dressed appropriately.
There are so many more silly things I've done, but naturally, I've forgotten them. Or, I want to forget them. Now, I'm off to the shops again to attempt to post these thing once and for all. I'm walking there for exercise. I won't ruin my effort when I get there by having a coffee and a cakie. Nope. No way. I never do things like that.
PS. I was so disorganised and sucky with my time management, yet again, that I ended up driving to the shops. Without the parcels I had to post. Enough said.
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
Do you forget things? Or frequently have embarrassing moments? Please tell me I'm not the only one...
For instance, there was the day when I had an
appointment to go to. As is my usual
tendency, I have no concept of
time or time management. I figured I could easily manage to dye my hair, have a shower, put a
bit of slap on, blow dry my hair and have ample time to drive the half hour it
would take to get to my appointment. Wrong.
I had planned what I was going to wear, but when I put the dress
on, it made me look distinctly pregnant. With quads. So, I figured I should
stick to the ‘pregnant with twins’ look I normally go for and decided on a
different outfit.
My hair ended up a glorious hue of bright orangey red. Sort
of Julia Gillard meets Pauline Hanson. Classy. Then, when I was
rushing to get out the door, I couldn’t find my handbag, glasses, keys and
had approximately 500 brain explosions. Finally, I made it into the car, already running late and realised, oh
fuck, I need petrol, as the gage pointed ominously pointed towards empty.
I stopped at the first petrol station. I can never remember which side the petrol
thingy is on, so I became all bewildered and bamboozled. Conscious of being I
late, I frantically leaped out of the car, slamming the door and ripping my skirt
which was caught in it.
Meanwhile, my Julia Gillard hair, which I so lovingly blow
dried has been well and truly blow dried in the sense of blown to smithereens
by the wind. I am not happy.
A few rather charming words later, I retrieve my ripped
skirt and flounce around to the petrol bowser. I’ve forgotten to open the door
thingy to the petrol cap. Swearing,
I stomp around and flick it open. So I think. However,it soon becomes clear I’ve opened the boot instead.
Fuck, fuckity fuck, I’m late! After several attempts to get the pump going I
finally have petrol. We have lift off.
I reach my appointment, mercifully only ten minutes late.
Okay, twenty. But at least I cut out the waiting room time. I spend the next 30 minutes
allowing my shrink to convince me that I’m a great Mum just by being loving and
demonstrative. So what if I regularly forget what day it is, to sign school
notes and the boys are being brought up in a messy, dishevelled house? I’m distracted, wondering if I left the iron
on, until I realise, there is certainly no chance of that happening. I never do
ironing. I may have left my hair straightener plugged in. I mentally prepare
myself for a stern lecture from Micky Blue Eyes on the perils of doing so.
Leaving the appointment, I remember I need to grab some
groceries on the way home. Naturally, the list I wrote is sitting somewhere at
home. I head to Aldi anyway. It’s cheap and I can possibly scrape up enough
cash for a few essentials. I have no change for the trolley. Trudging back to
the car, I grab the pram from the boot, I’ll use that instead. I wheel it in there, receiving odd looks from other shoppers at the sight of me with a
stroller, sans toddler. Studiously ignoring them, I load a few essentials onto
the pram. Finally I make it to the check out. At which point I become panicky as
they check through the groceries at break neck speed, I frantically throw them
onto the pram and fumble for the cash in my purse. I hand it over, smiling weakly
and continue throwing the rest of my things haphazardly onto and under the
pram.
“Have a nice day.”the cashier says in a
monotone, thrusting my change at me. She continues to survey me with a sour
expression as I simultaneously struggle to grab the last few items and stuff
the coinage in my purse amid audible impatient sighs from customers lined up
behind me. Finally shoving my purse away, I heave the heavy pram, laden with
groceries away from the the check out. Items tumble off onto the floor. I scoop
them up hurriedly, ignoring the pitying glances of other shoppers as they wheel
their tidily packed trolleys out the door
looking smugly superior. |
| I hate queues..but I'll queue up for plonk |
On the way out I spot the new alcohol section, a recent addition at my local Aldi. Deciding a five dollar bottle of plonk will be just the thing to help soothe my shattered nerves, I dump the groceries in the boot and head back in. Clutching my plonk, I join a queue yet again. I feel like I deserve a medal for bravery just for doing this simple task. Waiting in queues makes me feel ridiculously anxious for no reason. Clearly I am a thoroughly logical person. The young woman in front of me is holding the same bottle of plonk, The cashier asks for ID but doesn't ask me. I decide there are some distinct advantages to being an old bag as I leave with my plonk and the young woman leaves empty handed.
Arriving home I realise that I've forgotten approximately five things that were on the left-at-home list. I may have to face the joy of going back again. But why do today what you can put off for tomorrow?
Fast forward to this week and I have continued in my space cadet ways by finally remembering to take some gifts/items to post to online friends, which were promised months ago, and, in some cases, even, years ago. Then, en route to the post office I suddenly remembered I did not have the addresses to post them to with me. Additionally, I'd also forgotten my mobile, so I could not text them to ask their address. Sigh.
On the plus side, I managed to buy a lovely bogan outfit from Millers (tres classy) to wear to my sister in law's black and bling themed 40th birthday party, where, no doubt, I will sit quietly in the corner. But, at least I will be sitting quietly in the corner dressed appropriately.
There are so many more silly things I've done, but naturally, I've forgotten them. Or, I want to forget them. Now, I'm off to the shops again to attempt to post these thing once and for all. I'm walking there for exercise. I won't ruin my effort when I get there by having a coffee and a cakie. Nope. No way. I never do things like that.
PS. I was so disorganised and sucky with my time management, yet again, that I ended up driving to the shops. Without the parcels I had to post. Enough said.
Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.
Do you forget things? Or frequently have embarrassing moments? Please tell me I'm not the only one...
