A day best forgotten

Screen shot 2014-06-19 at 5.18.54 PMThat’s how I feel about it right now.  I’m in need of a quiet evening without drama.

I have written before about the blind animosity of inanimate objects. The needle that stabs you, the item you drop not once, but three times, the pot that boils over just before you reach it, all the things that fight back. My day has been filled with these. The only highlights have been lovely comments from my blogging community – keep ’em coming, you lot.

I woke up sore and tired from the previous several days hammering it at the gym. When I tipped the scales at a nasty, nasty  number, I decided enough was enough. Pain was no longer a good enough excuse to move less and less. Anyway, this morning I went back to the gym and hammered it some more. The promised endorphin rush failed to arrive, but I did burn a few calories. Then I stabbed myself painfully in the left index finger with the filleting knife. Just the tiniest pierce of the skin, but it went quite deep and bled copiously. The soup pot boiled over when I was down the other end of the house, which now smells of burned soup and I have to clean the stove. It rained when I needed sunshine for the laundry. And last, but not least, I locked myself out of the house when I went out to buy milk. With the Husband at work and a couple of hundred kilometres away. No, we haven’t got a secret hidden set of keys anywhere outside. Yet. Normally, I don’t have to worry. The car keys are in my handbag, with keys to the back door, and there’s a remote control for the garage door. Only the Husband took the car today, and I didn’t check before closing the garage door behind me whether he’d taken my set out of my handbag, or the spare set from the cupboard. No prizes for guessing which… He can now look forward to years of me asking him irritating key-related questions. Anyway, my sister in law a few streets away was fortunately home, it being a public holiday, and even more fortunately had a key to one of our doors which we’d had the foresight to leave with her some months ago. So I trudged round there a bit wearily, got them, trudged home and let myself in, leaving the house again on my milk mission with keys to every known door plus a garage remote. Hah!

On the global scale of Great Disasters, these things don’t rate very high. But the biggest downer is that I haven’t had time to sew. Now that’s a tragedy.


27 thoughts on “A day best forgotten

  1. tialys says:

    When you’re having one of those days it’s best to pour a glass of wine, fling yourself on the sofa in front of a good film and refuse to move. Come to think of it it’s almost worth having one of those days now and again 😉
    Anyway, if you haven’t been able to sew at least it will give the rest of us mere mortals time to catch up!
    Hope your finger gets better soon – is it your quilting finger?

    • katechiconi says:

      Fortunately not my quilting finger, and awkwardly positioned so it’s having trouble closing up. I am alone this evening, so I shall hog the sofa, set up my work lamp and get some of the next ring of Steampunk sewn in, with my feet up and the telly on.

  2. Poor you… at least tomorrow will be better!

  3. Tracey R says:

    Chin up chook! Tomorrow will be a better day! x x x

  4. rutigt says:

    So…this is Life. If one thing goes wrong, everything does. Let´s hope tomorrow is gonna be a much better day 🙂
    Hugs Gun, Sweden

    • katechiconi says:

      The day started to get better after a big mug of coffee and some caramel chocolate! And because the Husband is away this evening, I can just sew, which makes up for all the lost time today.

  5. Nanette says:

    What a day, hope you’re chilled out nicely now.

  6. Cath K says:

    At least you didn’t have to trudge all the way over the other side of town to the other sister-in-laws for the key 🙂

  7. oh dear oh dear, when things start to go wrong in the morning it is my experience that things go wrong for the rest of the day…..I now exactly how you must have felt ! hope today was a lot better !

  8. Marianne says:

    AAwwww … don’t you just hate it when things all go wrong! I wish you a MUCH better day tomorrow 🙂

  9. EllaDee says:

    Oh, one of those ‘bloody bloody hell’ days. And I can relate the locking out. Have spent a couple of hours browsing shops, sitting on park bench reading waiting for G.O. to arrive home after work from Godknowswhere… For future justincase we both now have spare door keys in our phone covers and just have to wait for & beg someone else to let us into the building a d swipe the lift to our floor… not an idiot proof plan. Thankfully there is always wine.

    • katechiconi says:

      Oh, it’s not over yet. The Husband left some important keys somewhere last night, and I spilled my morning coffee all over the clean sheets on the bed this morning… On the upside, I got the next ring on Steampunk done. Look out for a gloaty post on that!

  10. I once had to ask a downstairs neighbour to push me up onto our first-floor balcony after I accidentally locked myself out of our Sydney apartment. The husband was in China. We had to dodge spiky rose bushes, and I remember being shoved up with a push to my derrière.
    I hope tomorrow is better!

    • katechiconi says:

      Today was fairly average. Ok, bloody ordinary, but I have hopes of tomorrow. Once again, no sewing time, drat it. And I do love your story about getting the neighbour to boost you upstairs!

  11. cecilia says:

    I hate it when you stab yourself and it won’t stop bleeding.. but I hope you are healed by now and back sewing!.. c

  12. Kirsten says:

    Glad to see that things improved! At least there was a spare key relatively handy. Imagine if you had had to wait for The Husband to come home . . .

    • katechiconi says:

      I would have been sitting on the doorstep from 2.30pm until 10.30pm, foodless, waterless and most importantly, loo-less. In the hot sunshine and then the slightly chilly dark. Cursing…. We have bought one of those outdoor combination key safes. It’s going on the wall today.

      • Kirsten says:

        Sounds like a very wise precaution.

        The lack of a loo would be the most worrisome for me too. I have often imagined what it would be like if I discovered that I had forgotten my keys, scouting out places I could hide from the sun, appropriate bushes. I can get into the garden without a key, but after that . . .

  13. oh yes, days like these! How’s the gym going? You’re a better woman than I, to tackle that kind of thing 🙂

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