It didn’t start off very well, Hubs woke up, screeched, and checked the clock to find that although he had changed the alarm from the weekend to weekday, he hadn’t set it. We woke up at 7am, not 6am, and boy was I confused about what was going on. I woke up sitting bolt upright while he tried to explain to my bed-headed-befuddled-state that yes, it was late and yes, we had overslept and yes I did need to get out of bed. Yes. Now. All this while he tried to get a leg in a pant, pull his work shirt on and put his socks on in one movement.
There is nothing like a shot of adrenaline to get you going in the morning, much more effective than caffeine, but never fear! Getting ready in a nano-second has become my forte after travelling up to London for work each day. Although then I could do my make up on the train, this time I threw it at my face before I left the house and hoped for the best.
Hubs shouted out ‘Byeeee!’ and shot off to work, while I stared in despair at my hair which even a shower hadn’t sorted out (it’s growing and at the inbetweeney stage), then thought ‘Meh’, hurtled down stairs and popped some bread into toast, while I got my lunch out the fridge (Hurrah for Sunday afternoons). Reversing out the garage with the toast held between my teeth, I followed a car going slowly, very s l o w l y out the estate. It was only when I stopped behind them at the traffic lights, I saw the driver being fed his breakfast by his passenger using chop sticks. I tried to take a photo, but couldn’t for laughing. THEN I caught every red light on the first half of the drive to work, thinking ‘OK, I am going to be late, so I am going to be late’, but at least I can eat my breakfast on the road easily, and if needs be throw it on the dashboard when I go round corners. But somehow the Gods of good traffic were on my side, because from where I turn into Waverley Road, there was no traffic. I sailed through like it was first thing in the morning, and got to work 10 minutes later than normal.
Considering I had a mop on my head; my make up looked like it had been applied by my six year old niece, (love that smudged mascara look) and I started the day in a blind panic; by the time I had had a cuppa, wet the barnet down, removed the inner emo trying to break free, and sat at my desk with my headset on, I almost felt like a professional admin person.