Waaaaaah February 16, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 8 commentsI have not the words.
I had planned a minor diversion from my life of pitiful woe last night. The money had been splashed, the hopes had been raised. Mark Watson was on in Tunbridge Wells and he was going to make me laugh. He had to. I had paid him to.
In hindsight, the Universe had been giving me signs since I got up that It Was Not My Day. Taunting me, if you will. I won’t trouble you with the list of miseries. Pick a number, any number, and multiply it by seven million. That’s how bad my day was, on a scale of 1 to 10. Yes, you see now?
So. An innocent question sparked the downfall of doom. I enquired of my Hinge and Brackett colleagues what they suggested I scoff for supper before said evening of hilarity. Courgettes were mentioned. ‘Hmmmm…’ I thought. A little while later, having survived the tortures of Retail Hell and bimbling along in my little car, the thought bubbled to the surface again: ‘Mmmmm. Courgettes.’
I was, as you can imagine, slightly disturbed that my brain had been bamboozled, my mind infiltrated with thoughts of courgette yumminess. Nonetheless, I decided to stop at the Sainsburys emporium of delectable comestibles.
Now, had I not detoured, I would have made it home before the onset of Even More Mechanical Misery in the form of an exploding tyre. The AA man would arrive in one hour. ONE HOUR ?? In the adverts, he arrives really quickly - even before the advert finishes. After three hours, he actually arrived. Three hours of sitting in my car, in the middle of nowhere, freezing and bursting for a wee. At about the same time as Mark Watson would have been wandering onto the stage in his little Welsh way.
And now, I have only a fake wheel on my car which will not get me to work this morning. I missed my yearly evening of fun. And I forgot the courgettes. I am left only the joy of sharing with you this picture of a courgette which, you might agree, looks tittersomely rude.
I bet Mark Watson didn’t have any rude vegetables. So I probably wouldn’t have laughed anyway.
Everything happens for a reason they say. But why, oh why, is absolutely everything going wrong at once?
Answers on a postcard, if you please.
