I feel like I have spent much of today wading through the sticky mess of my own incompetence, disorganisation, inability to say no and laziness. It's been an absolute treat, as you can imagine. I need some kind of figurative damp cloth to come and wipe me up.
Tippexing an eye back on a Kinder Egg toy (the guilt! he's so milking it)
Getting my heel stuck in the jaws of the escalator and having to take both shoes off to escape to the bemusement of passing commuters while delivering a box of papers, because this is what us lawyers with 10 years experience are best employed doing. Shortly after getting my heel stuck in the jaws of the satanic pavement, which pulled my shoe off and kept it as I gurned and flapped in front of the horribly cool kids at the film school next to work.
Spending the whole working day hoiking my new top (no, not the 3.1 Philip Lim blouse I'm taking my penance, its cheaper substitute) which I clearly failed to realise when I tried it on was going to spend its entire life trying to display my greying bra and sagging über-bosom to my colleagues.
Making motherfucking fairy cakes (yes, that is their official name, that is what Nigella calls them, on p53 of 'How to be a Domestic Fucking Goddess') for the school which is currently making Lashes cry in the night about his MARKS (er, hello? aged six?) when there is NO food in the house and the children are eating fossilised bagels from the deepest strata of the freezer for their dinner in front of the tv. Fuck it. The CFO suggested I make subtly obscene ones. I don't do subtle.
Listening to the bleating, pathetic sound of my own voice complaining ineffectually at the children like the mean hag I am until I actually feel inclined to shove my own head down the toilet just to stop the noise.
Spending the early part of the evening ordering food on line as the children stuck pipe cleaners up my nose and wailed endless spooling grievances into my ears BECAUSE I couldn't do it last night just in case my credit card was refused causing the CFO to ask Difficult Questions.
Bought more craft supplies (the guilt! etc) in order to spend the rest of the evening picking elastic bands and pom poms out of my cleavage.
Hmm, think the boys. What this room needs is MORE GLITTER. And, oooh, I know, how about one of us shaves the outside of a twig with a new shiny vegetable peeler from the kitchen, while the other one drops a large box of sequins into the tortoise house! Yeah, yeah, and THEN we could get fluorescent orange play-doh on our shoes and tread it into the rug! Yeah!
So, hooray. I am a moron. And now the computer keys are covered in icing, my new top is grease stained and my head smells like playdoh.
Dull eh? Hey, it's NaBloPoMoFo. I can't have good ideas every day.