Skip today please, bus driver!

I think that there are some days you should just skip by. That you shouldn't concentrate too much on anything that's happening and just sort of let it end. Quickly.

Today is one of those days. There is nothing terrible happening, I am not severely depressed, and I haven't got a broken leg or anything.. which I suppose makes it harder to describe. It actually makes me laugh how a small but constant succession of tiny events can make you just go 'Okay, I give up. I'm going to go home, take a bath and just zonk.'

My job has shifts that you work - some weeks you start at 9:30am and some weeks you start at 7am. I am on the 7am shifts this week. I have an idea that this may have something to do with it. Less then 8 hours sleep and I just can't seem to function properly. My body thinks that I'm still in bed dreaming, so doesn't mind so much about being accurate in it's choreography.

I woke up this morning and found my socks that I had laid out weren't actually socks, but sock tights. And that there was a massive hole in the left toe. So after stumbling around looking for the clean laundry I had washed the night before, I found a pair that actually somewhat matched.

I then went through to the bathroom to do my make-up. I turn on the light and look up into the mirror. "What is that!" I cry. "Who is this strange red-eyed monster?" I exclaim! Last night I had cooked meatloaf for the first time in my life. I don't know why, but I had a strange hankering for some old-skool American food, some every-day meatloaf and jacket potato. Whilst cooking this gourmet meatloaf, I somehow managed to get a massive speck of the stuff in my right eye. (oh why couldn't i have been experimenting with lobster?) After washing my eye with water, I continued on my way and merrily gobbled the meal up with no consequence.

So I was un-pleasantly surprised to find that over night my eye had turned into a massive red ball balancing inside my head. I was not pleased. It has gotten redder and redder all day - I'm not sure if I have scratched it or something, but I'm hoping it goes away soon - I think it's taking away my body co-ordination.

So after this mini-trauma I make my way outside to trek to the bus stop. At this time in London (6.30am) it is still quite quiet and calm. It's very pleasant to walk to the bus stop with the friendly moon still overhead, halfway down the sky, massive and yellow, so close to the horizon. I am thinking of how peaceful it is when the sound of hard, thick hail starts to pound all around me. Luckily I have brought my trusty umbrella with me (the Englishman's necessity) but it's £2.00 flimsiness is not quite strong enough for the gale winds that are subjecting themselves onto me. I'm glad the streets were so quiet, otherwise people would have witnessed a strange dance between a tall woman and a colourful umbrella - a feeble attempt for umbie not to go inside-out.

Once at the bus stop, I breathe a sigh of relief. I still have 20 minutes to get there, and the roads are quiet. Surely I will get there on time? Alas, 2 full buses passed me on by and I was left standing, ragged and confused . I finally arrive to work (around 15 minutes late) and fluster around for a little while. I'm alone in the office, and the WORLD wants to book things *now*. I forget to ask somebody how they want their room set up and later the technician comes back to me and gives me a little snidy 'can you please do that right next time..' Normally I would just think 'Whatever! It's chair-organisation, not solving world hunger!' Today, I have to use up a whole lot of energy to not start crying. What kind of wuss starts crying at that?

So I decide to pop to the bathroom and re-apply my make up, and once again get completely stunned by the redness of my eye. By this time I have decided to stop trying to have a good day. Just get on with it, go have lunch, finish all my duties and trundle on home.

I go on over to the kitchenette and start preparing my little packet of prawn-flavoured ramen noodles. I go back to my desk and start surreptitiously slurping. Half way through, I somehow manage to snap my plastic spoon, flipping noodles and sauce all over my monitor and onto the freshly-pressed white shirt I am wearing. I think I even managed to flip a dedicated trickle into my good eye.

None of my colleagues are too surprised. I don't have a good of a track record for co-ordination. Only weeks ago I had been walking to my desk when someone had asked me a question and I looked around - Only to trip on somebody's desk-chair and fall flat on my face, on to the only man who works in my offices' lap. This is when I started to re-think the choice of shoes I was wearing. When buying them, I had stiletto-tainted flash-backs from my childhood in the 80's when all the glamorous women on TV and movies were wearing them. I found them strangely repulsive, but at the same time, they called to my mini-Rachel that had always so desperately wanted a pair. So the whole ramen-noodle incident didn't really register with anybody.

Nothing at all traumatic has happened today. Nobody has said anything that I will remember in a week's time. I haven't hurt myself, and nobody has done anything wrong to me. But I would quite like to go straight home, run a bath and reserve my right as a grouchy woman and just soak until I look vaguely like a relaxed prune.