I’ve had one of those weeks when I wonder what the universe is trying to tell me. It started when I left two bags of cherries in the fridge in the village. I’d meant to bring them to the city to stone and freeze. I wouldn’t mind, but I wondered not once, but three times, why the food carrier was so light.
Then my store of novelty Budapest chocolates, treats for a workshop I was running on Friday, treats that I’ve only ever found in one little shop over in Buda – I had those all ready to pack – but didn’t want to crush the boxes, so I Ieft them aside and then left without them. Airport chocolate is five times more expensive and not nearly as nice.
When I got to the car rental desk, the lovely lady told me that my credit card had expired last week. So no car. They, of course, don’t take cash. Or a debit card. And even had I taken full insurance, they’d still need a credit card. Why or what for I’m not sure. Thankfully, the mates I called came to my rescue. They’d rent the car but name me as the driver. They arrived with a credit card but no licence – why would they need it if they weren’t driving? So another friend had to be called in. I was now three hours behind schedule. But I was on the road.
Next day, I get to my workshop more than an hour early. I wanted to be sure that I’d be able to use my laptop with their system and if not, have time to source another. All was good. But the that massive Windows update that I’d been putting off all week kicked in and for more than an hour I watched the minutes tick away, one percent at a time. I just about made it.
I couldn’t get my Internet to work, so I texted their support guy, who asked questions like when I run config/all (or some such) what does it say? WTF? The presumption of knowledge was hilarious. It was something to do with hardcored DNS numbers in the end.
The workshop went fine. They enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. All good.
I still had time before the shops closed so I headed into TK Maxx to buy a frying pan. I get lost easily and if I enter the shopping centre from a different door, I find it nearly impossible to orientate myself. I spotted a lift that I knew would open on the floor I needed, so in I got. Halfway between two floors, the electricity cut out and the lift stopped. With me in it. And I was in it for 29 minutes. I counted. They eventually got the door open and lowered a ladder for me to climb out. It was, of course, the only day this year that I’ve worn a floor-length skirt. All I can say is that it wasn’t pretty.
I had yet another fruitless trip to M&S who really need to do something about their ordering policy. It’s pretty clear to me (someone with little to no retail experience) that if something regularly sells out, you should order more of it than of anything else. Every other woman in Ireland must wear the same bra size as I do because M&S has not had that size in stock the last three times I’ve shopped there.
So, with the week about to close and a new one set to begin, I can only hope that the universe has said whatever it needs to say to me. These were, of course, all first world issues. As the rest of the world continues to go mad, I’m grateful that my issues are trivial.