Teflon Shoulders, Public Melt Downs, Pumpkin Spice Latte and Dented Sensibilities

Okay, so it's been a while since you've had to listen my dulcet tones bringing you up-to-date with the wonderful witty world of Tasha.

And you're going to have to wait a little while longer because I have my sarcasm queen hat on, along with squinty eyes and a thin line of a mouth.

I am one unhappy bunny today and in no mood to put up with anyone who thinks this chick is cute and fluffy.  Just ask my oven and bath because they are missing their protective coatings.  Don't even think about jokingly asking me to come round and do yours....unless you want a tongue lashing from me.

I'm going to cut to the chase because my patience in limited and I reached it about four sentences ago - yes that would virtually be the title!  The person who points that out is either brave or stupid or both ggrrr.

I had a very public and tearful melt down today at about 10 o clock outside a very expensive and uppity private primary school, while a complete stranger stopped me from damaging a blue BMW estate car with my less than desirable parking (don't utter a word about that it or it could cost you dearly).  He ended up having to move the car for me.

Wait.  Let me back track and start on Thursday when my boss displayed her Teflon Shoulders and let me shoulder the humiliation and responsibility for her inability to organise herself and be prepared for a teacher-parent meeting.  People whine about their bosses all the time and I've had my fair share of them to know more often than not there are more bad ones than there are good ones, so needless to say I took the criticisms of mine with a pinch of salt.  Until Thursday.  I'm not going to descend into the expletive muttering angry woman skulking in the corner that I was on Thursday after our meeting, no I'm going to be blunt but polite and merely say my boss is ineffectual at best and incompetent at worst.

Friday, I was pushed from pillar to post at work doing general dog's body work, which mostly I enjoy because I like putting things in order and organising things and keeping busy.  However, the promise I was made of being able to leave an hour early because I had started work an hour early never materialised and lo and behold I ended up being the only person in our team left working!!  Everyone else slunk off early.

Yesterday was also the last day to send care packages out to Afghanistan where L is for Christmas.  I arrived at the post office only to be told they were refusing to send my package because it was over 2kgs and I needed to go home and repackage.  Fine.  About turn I did, drove home, repackaged and went back having split it in to 3 packages just to make sure.

Today I was meant to be running a stall for a friend so that she could go on a day out with her husband (forces too) so she wouldn't lose out on the money she had paid to have it there at this fancy smancy private school that had pot holes the size of craters on their drive full of muddy water.  Seriously, all that money and no common sense to see to your drive?????

And that's about where I started this forlorn tale....standing there in my Uggs with my car pressed up against another one, wondering how I was going to get myself out of the mess I'd got myself into.  Oh wait I forgot to mention that our insurance was about to lapse because I am in the process of negotiating with them to drop their renewal price, never having been involved in our car insurance business either (that's L's job!) I also forgot to mention that all day yesterday my stomach had me running to the bathroom while everything I ate went straight through me.

I ended up getting myself into such a tearful state that I just came home.  For a long time, as I cleaned, I brushed tears off my cheeks and wished balefully that I had family around me to give me a comforting hug, to curl up on the sofa and to watch Christmasy films with to cheer me up.

I settled for a large mug of Nescafe Pumpkin Spice Latte sent by the Mother in law and watching a film alone.

I'm okay, only my pride, confidence and sensibilities have been dented.  And on the plus, my oven looks good, my bath is gleaming and I just have a small pile of ironing to attend to.

It's okay to laugh now, I've calmed down and feel a little better.  Kind of.  I suppose.  Any one got a spare hug going???

Renaissance

In an effort to 'find myself' again after a destabilising period in which I felt like my life had experienced the snow globe effect – turned upside down and shaken vigorously – I am opening myself up to trying new things. Instead of procrastinating (I can pretty much think myself out of doing just about anything) I’ve been taking the plunge and saying ‘Sure why not, I’ll give it a go’ without thinking about it.

The fact is I’ve always been cautious by nature. I’m reserved, solemn and solitary and always have been. Even as a child I could just as easily play by myself as I could with others. Admittedly I did often prefer to play by myself – and in my wardrobe - because that meant I didn’t have to be teased, tormented and mocked by my sister. So, yes this new found spontaneous side of me does feel like it is going against nature, my nature to be precise, which surely and aptly explains my bruises and wounded pride.

Let me backtrack 5 months. For my 32nd birthday my husband (bless him) decided I needed a new and expensive mountain bike, not wanted but yes needed. Before I tell you why this was such a bad idea let me explain his reasoning; in his mind because I thought the bike really was too expensive it wouldn’t be the type of present I would just accept as simply a gift and just because he loves me. In addition to that point being that it was my birthday any present he got me would obviously HAVE to be an expensive one, so he completely dismissed my request for book vouchers, or any vouchers of any kind for any shop. Apparently they weren’t a suitable gift. God forbid I should be given a present for my birthday that I would a) like, b) appreciate, c) take pleasure in and d) have actually asked for – just who’s birthday was it?! So I got a mountain bike nearly three months before my birthday that sat in the garage until the actual day of my birthday because I wasn’t allowed to have it before then – I could look at it but I wasn’t allowed to ride it – because it wasn’t my birthday yet.

Before you dismiss this as being a complete Princess I will first admit when it comes to my birthday I admit I am guilty as charged. My birthday falls at an inconvenient time of year, which means people are often strapped for cash, knackered from working their butts off, inundated with family members descending upon them or having to spend hours in the car descending on family themselves and planning for another big event that happens two days later. My argument is that it’s my birthday, the one day of the year that I would like to be about me and doing the things that I enjoy and make me feel good.

But I digress, the real reason I didn’t want a bike for my birthday is that I am entirely lacking in grace and my co-ordination is far from the best. I am enthusiastic and do give things my best shot, which thinking about it is more than likely the reason I get cocky and over confident and end up having an accident. Hence the reason I attended a wedding this weekend black, blue, purple, green and yellow and covered in scraped elbows and shins. Oh you guessed it - hubby decided two weeks before the wedding that we should take my new bike out for a spin in the forest and some how I managed to fall off it going ‘up’ a mud hill. Yes UP a mud hill, not down a mud hill. Don’t. Ask. It hurt like you wouldn’t believe. I really did sit in the dirt whimpering and sniffling loudly as I desperately tried to catch my breath and breath through the pain at the same time. Oh and try not cry too while also trying to ignore the fact I had a mouthful of mud. You can imagine how bad the bruising was if even after two weeks I was still looking like a rainbow. Either that or an advertisement for United Colours of Benetton.

Not being shy or anywhere near ready to give up this new found embracing of spontaneity (read hurting myself and denting my fragile pride) I’ve embarked upon a ten week course of yoga-dance. Yeah I’m not too sure what it is either, my first lesson only served as a reminder of how unfit, inflexible and overweight I am.

That said I’m not ready to give up yet and who knows if this – new streak of determination – continues I might have the confidence to give writing that novel I’ve had in my head for years a go.