Sunday, 14 July 2013

THE LITTLE THINGS

                                           THE LITTLE THINGS


            It was not until I had poured the Corn Flakes into the bowl and opened the refrigerator door and reached in for the milk that I remembered that I had forgotten to pick up the milk and bread on my way home from work last night.
“Damn” I said as I changed direction and went for the eggs instead. The carton was there but it was empty.
What now! The local takeaway.
It was about three kilometres away in the opposite direction to the way I needed to go to get to my first appointment. If I hurried I could just make it. Shower, dress, get over there, order a double latte and a bacon and egg burger to go, eat it on my way in the car and still get to the client on time.
The hot water tap in the shower that I had taped together with about six band aids the last time it had fallen off lay on the floor in two pieces.
Cold shower? Out of the question it was the middle of winter. What to do now? Just one band aid left in the box.
 Aha! The nail scissors. Yes the nail scissors. Grip that little toggle thing and twist it and “Viola”. Hot water.
Brilliant, except that the scissors slipped and I managed to stab myself in the other hand. Thank God for that last band aid.
Shower finally over but about five minutes behind schedule. Just about dressed. Where is that damn blouse? Double damn. It is in the pile of clothes waiting to be ironed. Pick up the iron to plug it in and forget about my sore hand. In my reaction to the pain I drop the iron and, of course, it lands on my foot. I waste another precious minute jumping around like a lunatic and swearing rather loudly. Forget the damn iron. The rumpled look is in anyway. Isn’t it?
Finally in my car and on my way, hand hurting and foot throbbing. Lucky I drive an automatic so can use just one hand and one foot. I even slip the shoe off my damaged foot.
Egg and bacon burger and latte ready in near record time. Things are looking up. I might still make the appointment on time.
Back in the car and off. Coffee and roll on the seat beside me.
Coffee first I think. Very, very carefully I lift the cup in my sore hand and take a sip. No problems. I tell myself that if I am careful I can do this. Without taking my eyes off the road ahead I slowly put the cup back on the centre console.
The band aid has come loose and part of the sticky end adheres to the cup and as I pull my hand away it tips over into my lap.
Coffee splashes out of the cap and onto my bare leg.
I jump with fright. Look down and try to pick the cup up with my sore hand. Bad idea. The hot coffee burns my hand.
It is about now I remember that I am driving in heavy traffic and look up.
Red lights everywhere, especially the brake lights on the car immediately in front.
Forget the coffee. Jump on the brakes. The damn shoe I had slipped off has fallen down behind the brake pedal.

Double damn!

Next time remember to pick up the Damn milk and bread on the way home.

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