Tuesday was a funny old day.

Yvonne’s Facebook Status, Tuesday 17th September 2013:

Go to meeting at 2pm. Finish at 5.20pm. Phone office to organise taxi to get back to office. Get the answer-machine. 
Office is shut. Phone then dies.
Realise I have no cash. 
Realise cash is in office with my car keys and my keys to the office. 
Realise without cash cannot get taxi back to office where car is parked. 
Realise without office keys cannot get car keys. 
Realise without car keys cannot get into car and cannot get home. 
Panic some more. 
Walk miles back to office in impractical super-high heels. Get to office. Accost stranger. 
Pay said stranger dirty grush from bottom of bag to use their phone. 
Phone Edinburgh-based work colleague. 
Phone colleague 8 times. 
Stranger getting impatient. Stranger thinks I am a mad woman. 
I AM a mad woman. 
Colleague answers on 9th attempt. She is mad too (angry) but agrees to open the office for me… 
It’s been a f’ing awful day.

When I posted I genuinely thought the ‘bad day’ bit of my day was over.

That was a stupid assumption to make.

R wasn’t in when I got back. He’d waited, apparently and was ‘angry with you Mum’ but had had to leave, late for his evening meeting

Dinner – if I’d had the appetite – was by this time a shrivelled, dried up mess.

When I went for a ‘relaxing shower’ I managed to pull the shower head from the wall.

Knowing that I really had to, I settled to do a very late hour’s work – reading statements and trying to map evidence (for a hideous 7-10 day proof that’s set down for November – the meeting was a handover from legal firm to me) – and managed to read the same page at least 30 times before realising my mental matches just werny lighting.

I then settled to bed – to be disturbed by a cranky accusatory R. – angry because he hadn’t a clue where I was; he’d had to leave the kids and ‘why hadn’t I phoned or even answered my phone anyway’… 


Oh… and I woke up on the 18th with an ugly cold sore.

And now (19th) I’m fu’ of snottery sweaty freezing miserable cold germs.

It hasn’t been such a great week. 

However, as one of my pals pointed out – it does make laughable reading. It’s even starting to sound (masochistically) funny to me.

12 thoughts on “Tuesday was a funny old day.

  1. When you've been there..though never without cash I must say…it does take on a somewhat comic air.

    No comfort to you though, going through it all.

    But what on earth are you doing wearing footwear like that? Unless you need to stiletto others at the meeting.

  2. Glad to hear you're back on the ball. Hilarious. Sounds like my life. Very happy to read that you were reading super high heels and also pulled out the shower head. My life again. Once I had to ask a man for a coin in Addis Ababa airport (with fever and tiny baby in my arms) to call the ex who'd decided to forget I was coming. And I must have looked so desperate that he gave me one! Xcat

  3. Ha! Helen! I did need those shoes ('sitting-down shoes' as my Mother describes them) – part of the power strategy… These big swanky firms always do need a bit of power dressing…

    The meeting over-ran (as I suspected it would). I lost track of time (the handover was difficult as the subject's complex). My office have a taxi account – for which I didn't have the number (though with a charge-less phone that was academic) – so if all had gone to plan I'd not have needed cash… I was frazzled by the time I got back to Dalry Road. But thankfully it worked out in the end – because after my colleague, my intended next call was to home in order that they brought spare keys for the car out to me…
    I can laugh now.
    Though this lousy cold is making me feel very sorry for myself… 😀

  4. Haha! You and I would be a hilarious disaster waiting to happen if we got together!
    I just have this inability to do things in an orderly fashion… Ridiculous mix-ups and difficulties are me.
    But – as one pal pointed out – it gives me plenty of material to draw on…
    Small mercies.
    Anyway – You're having much fun by the looks of it! I popped over to read your latest – but hadn't time to comment. I'll be back! Yx

  5. The shower-head seemed a bizarrely fitting end to my attempts to redress the balance. Though even that could have been anticipated as it's been a bit shoogly for days.
    It was all silly.
    Emblematic of how I was feeling anyway. And when colleague's initial response to me saying 'I am locked out of the office and my car keys are inside on my desk' was 'And?' it just made me shrivel and die inside… It's now Friday. I am choked with germs and sneezing and shivering. But it's all minor stuff. A good sleep and I'll be recovered… Yx

  6. So much for gender equality in the workplace…I'll believe it the day I see men teetering on these things….

    To think that to be taken seriously one has to stand on stilts!

  7. Gender equality?
    Nope. I don't recognise that.
    Though this is slightly more nuanced.
    Hand-over solicitor was young female (Senior Associate) attached to big Edinburgh firm. Said very large practice is based in rich new area of Edinburgh – in granite/polished concrete/smoked glass/black leather multi-storey offices. All females employed therein are sleek, polished, paragons of middle-class high-heeled, verging on anorexic, beauty.
    I'm afraid the heels are the only physical place I can compete. That and the red lipstick and the sharp short black hair.
    This was a female-on-female 'battle'. Though the misogynist source of it all is clear.
    Her cut-glass accent and big firm credentials encouraged her (at heart, she was good, really) to believe she was 'superior'. That, and the office, represent a (sometimes) fatal advantage.
    When I left she apologised to me.
    I don't really know why. I think it was because she had so under-estimated me before the meeting. Who knows.
    Stuff like that tires me out Helen. Makes me despair for the workplace.
    Women are 'sisters'?
    I've been shafted by more 'sisters' climbing the greasy pole than men. Though I forgive the women more readily.

  8. I might forgive…I don't forget.
    And, as you say, the mysogynist source is all too clear.
    The power dressing rubbish was just coming in in my time, before that it was the two rows of pearls….and no, I didn't.

  9. Hope you are fully recovered by now.
    Your story made me laugh.
    Bugger of a day and night!
    But that always seems to be how it happens, as Shakespeare I believe once noted.

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