One of Those Days

My temp agency called me about a week ago to ask if I’d be interested in working on Friday (yesterday), handling the registration desk for a medical seminar at a hotel about five miles from the house. I’ve done these before and enjoy them – close to home, only four hours work, and the pay is good.

I got my clothing laid out in the guest room on Thursday night, as I had to be up at 5 AM, and at work by 6:30. Up and dressed and ready to leave at 6:10. I tiptoed into the bedroom to leave the phone beside The Squire; one of the local restaurants donates bread to our food closet  and he had forgotten to go get it Thursday night after I had gone to bed, so I wanted to call him and get him down there before they opened.

Just as well I put the phone there, as my very first action when I got to work was to spill hot coffee all down the front of my suit. I woke up The Squire and asked him to bring me clean, dry clothing, and – of course – remind him to stop for the bread on the way home.

When I got off at 10:30, there was an accident in front of the hotel (what is it with my working Friday mornings that causes accidents to happen in my path?) so I waited forever to get out onto the main road. As I finally drove away, I discovered there was a second exit to the lot, and I could have been on my way twenty minutes ago! I hate when that happens.

Came home, took a nap, and loaded the wash into The Squire’s car to run to the laundry. (One of many disadvantages of living in a swamp is that our septic won’t handle an automatic washer.)

There is a grocery store next to the laundry, so I stopped to pick up a few things, including several bags of candy for the Easter Egg hunt at church. Although they all had different prices, they were in a bin marked $1, so I grabbed three. When I got to the checkout, it turned out the bags had been tossed into the wrong bin by other shoppers, and were “priced as marked”. I can do the “sweet, helpless, little old lady” routine fairly well, so the manager let me have about $8 worth of candy for $3.

And then I walked out of the store without the bag and had to go back.

Collected my wash and then wandered the lot for several minutes looking for my car, until it dawned on me that I was driving The Squire’s car, not mine.

I really shouldn’t be allowed out alone.