There must be a problem with my planetary alignment or something because I’ve had a terrible few days!

Planets are aligned to cause maximum disruption for Nic Danson

Monday: for some reason all the computers in work decide to live in a different time zone thereby causing no end of IT problems and I have spent three days on the phone (which also decides not to work) to IT company and telling staff to try switching it off and back on again. 


Who knew clocks could cause this much damage. 

(Actually as soon as I wrote that last sentence I realised the schoolboy error. I was a programmer in 1999. The world lived in fear of computer clocks) 

The world is going to end. Stockpile tinned food and bottled water

Am too tired to watch The Walking Dead finale

Tuesday: wake up to Facebook post from my sister regarding awesome Walking Dead finale

Nooooooo!

Take an hour to get to work (it normally takes me 15 minutes) due to roadworks. 

Get to work and discover Genie’s lunchbox still in the car. 

Of course. Why did I consider anything else?

Get home to find my mum babysitting. Hooray! Try to think of places I need to be. 

#1 comes home and asks for a lift to the school concert. He’s going under duress, he’d rather stay in bed but his girlfriend is in the concert and she’s told him he has to go. 

Plus can I pick him up from concert?

I might as well go. I’m a school governor and the school appreciates our support. Plus #1’s girlfriend is practically #1.5. Ring school (it’s 4.50pm) on off chance someone is there and can get me a VIP seat. (What can I say? Power corrupts.) Caretaker answers phone. Do I want one seat or two? Run upstairs and ask Mack does he want to sit in front with me? No, he’s going with his friend. Just one seat please. (Ten minutes later Mack tells me his friend is not coming now.) 

Tell my mum it’ll only be an hour. 

One hour of freedom! Woo hoo! Bye! Sorry (not sorry)

After about a million acts, compère says “and that concludes the first half”. So far been 90 minutes. Eventually get home about 3 hours after leaving house. But hey, not all bad: kids are all asleep! 

Watch Walking Dead finale (possibly one of the absolute best episodes ever). Then can’t sleep due to adrenaline.

Oh my God! Greatest. Show. EVER!

Today (Wednesday): wake up late (due to lack of sleep) and Queen Adelaide is in full force because she cannot find her school clothes which she ‘accidentally’ left on the bathroom floor and my mum has ‘helpfully’ tidied up. Find school clothes on utility room floor ready to go in washing machine. Dog has done what male dogs do and ‘marked’ foul smelling clothes. 

Bad dog?

Queen Adelaide believes these clothes are the absolute ONLY clothes she can wear to school and she decides she will not go to school. In fairness to her, it is the only one of the 700 school shirts in our house that is her size.

I ring neighbour whose daughter just left our primary school so *may* have right size t-shirt. 

No (it was the slimmest of slim hopes: my neighbour is super organised and will have thrown out old clothes at 4pm of last day of term. Oh for a fraction of her organisation so that I might have, oh I don’t know, checked school clothes the night before? I’ve been doing school runs for fourteen years; I’m pretty sure that ain’t never gonna happen)

She suggests a quick wash on the machine. It’s 8am. I should be leaving the house 8.15am, 8.20 tops. Pretty sure the quickest wash on the machine is more than that (I check to be sure, because the machine *may* be affected by time bug. It *could* be catching. It’s possible). 

Placate Queen Adelaide (in itchy, tight, horrible clothes that she has lowered herself to wear out of ABSOLUTE necessity; I definitely didn’t contemplate letting her stay home for a fraction of a second) by agreeing to go and buy her a spare tshirt of the correct size IMMEDIATELY after school. 

Genie decides to remind me she needs a new leotard for gymnastics. Tonight. An hour after school finishes. 

So agree that tonight’s after school plan is: Adelaide t-shirt, Genie leotard then McDonalds (plus Gymnastics (Genie) at 5-6pm, Gymnastics (Adelaide) 6-7pm, Tang Soo Do (Genie) 6.30-7.30pm, Football (Llyw) 7-8pm)

Mum is a taxi. Mum is a bank. Mum is a waitress. Mum is a slave.

Am late picking up from school due to roadworks. 

Race to uniform shop. (Being careful to observe speed limits: the first time I did that course it was interesting; the second time, not so much)

Uniform shop is out of tshirts of correct size. But they can order them and have them ready on Friday afternoon. When school finishes for two weeks. 

Go to Sports Direct for leotard through two industrial estates at 4.30pm, with traffic lights, and a one way system not designed for this particular journey. 

This Sports Direct doesn’t sell leotards. 

So McDonalds. 

Drive Thru is closed while lorry delivers ten million bread rolls. 

Just a small one. It’s medicinal.

I suppose I must be glad of small mercies. It’s been three days so it should be over. Right? 

Just in case ….. anyone got a de-bad-spirit spell? 

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