Friday madness

Are other families as disorganised as ours? On Thursday, I spent the day in the hospital at the fracture clinic with Sir Talkalot and his broken arm. I took a book I'm reading for school to read but got little reading done as Sir Talkalot wanted to talk. So I put the work off. That evening I was feeling ill with stabbing pains in my abdomen -- I thought maybe it was a UTI, but it turned out to be some odd sort of gastro bug that's doing the rounds; in any case, I didn't get any work done.

So:

Friday morning, I wake up feeling feverish and with aches and pains everywhere. And Sir Talkalot has missed his bus. Again. Resigned to having to take him, I'm ready to go when Sir T notices the dogs were out. There's much cussing and cursing (yeah, they're the same thing really, but it sounds good!) as the blasted dogs don't want to be caught, but we get them inside, eventually. By this time we're running late.

We drive into school and get there at 9.05. Sir T has an excursion and is dismayed because there are no buses waiting. No buses, and no students waiting for buses.

"They've gone already. Quick, quick, you have to take me into the Immigration Museum!"

"Don't you think you should go in first and check?"

"My classroom was empty. They're not here."

"How do you know?"

"We just drove past it," he says. (The road to his locker pod goes through the school itself.) "It's empty. I'm telling you: they're gone!"

"Oh."

"Quick! You've got to get me there."

So we head back out onto the road and battle the peak-hour car park that's called a freeway. Sir T is getting agitated by the traffic jam and our slow process. "Don't worry," I say. "If we're caught, so are they."

We get to the Immigration Museum at 9.50. Happily -- unexpectedly -- there's a car park nearby. I have 85 cents in change in the car, so I'm wondering how long that will buy me. Not long, I presume, wishing I'd brought my bag and purse. Even more happily, the meter is out of order -- although this makes me cautious because the last time I parked in a spot with an out-of-order meter, I got a parking ticket, even though I rang and reported the meter as faulty. I had two rounds of fighting that before I won. This time I can't ring as I haven't got my phone. It's in my bad. After all, it was just a quick trip to school, right?

I stay with the car while Sir T goes to see if he's school's at the museum. It doesn't open till 10. And there are no buses waiting. Hmm. They were also going to the Eureka tower, so I'm wondering if they went there first and whether we should wait. And all the time I'm almost shaking with fever. 

When eventually the museum opens, he finds the school cancelled the excursion the day before, and everyone was told -- only we were at the hospital! So we head back to school. It's nearly 11.30 by the time I get home and collapse into bed. I still don't get any work done.