So after my maudlin midweek meltdown Friday finally arrives. My continuing quest to be super mum gets me into trouble again but not before a chaotic work day.
So here’s how my day played out.
Months ago I gate crashed my friends’ date night and convinced them to let me tag along to see the Doug Anthony All Stars with them. It’s OK they’ve been married a long time, they welcome the distraction of a third-party, no really they do.
Of course back when I did this soccer season hadn’t started and I forgot I’d be on Friday night soccer duties but more about that later.
At the start of the day I have to dress at 7.30am for a day that will cover work, standing on the soccer sidelines for half an hour and going to the theatre. There’s no time to come home to get changed. I’ve bought a new white shirt and black jacket (on sale at Big W). By 7.35am I discover my first problem is my only white bra isn’t washed, so I put on a black, spotted one and hope the jacket will cover it seeping through the white shirt. 7.36 I can’t find my black boots. Well, I can find ONE black boot but the other has completely DISAPPEARED.
On the positive side the search did result in finding the spare key to the green car under my bed – remember that drama? We had the car parked at the school for eight days because we’d lost the key and couldn’t find the spare one and the locksmiths said it would cost hundreds to replace it because it had some computer chip thingo in it.
Anyway I give up on the black boots and wear brown boots with my black trousers – the fashionista daughter says it looks OK but I think that’s just because she wants to get out of the house before she’s late for school. What is it with the kid and being ON TIME???
At work the publicist for DAAS has contacted me and arrange for the trio to come in for a live interview before the show. Luckily I’m thinking ahead. One of the interviewees, Tim Ferguson, is now confined to a wheelchair with Multiple Sclerosis. To get a wheelchair in I have to open both the double entrance doors. I check I can get them open and … I can’t.
The locks on the second door haven’t been opened in a while and they are stuck. So I message the boss to bring WD40 back when he returns from lunch, call in a taller friend and she manages to get the top lock unstuck. I take to the bottom lock with a butter knife and miraculously it shifts … although the door itself still won’t move because it’s also stuck in place … two of us pull and shake it and eventually we get it OPEN! Hurray. But now I’m worried about closing it and not being able to get it back open, so we hold it open with a piece of artwork from the front desk for the moment. You’ve got to give me points for being innovative.
The activity has caused some sweating, but I can’t remove my jacket because, you know, black spotty bra.
Even my twenty-something colleague is feeling a bit warm (what is the air-conditioning set on today?) I tell her not to worry she has just caught menopause from the rest of us old things. Not sure she finds that funny.
Anyway, DAAS arrive and we get them into the studio, although they decide to close and lock the front because they are leaving their stuff in the foyer. I hold my breath, retrieve the butter knife from the kitchen and figure at least I’ve got them IN for the interview, if we end up with Ferguson trapped in the studio unable to get to his show, well that will be unfortunate, but at least I didn’t have dead air on my program!
But at the crucial moment the door does open they are OUT!
Great, now back to the super mum bit. I’ve organised for my friend Susie to bring Princess Child home from soccer but because I’m on the whole guilt trip thing I promise I will take her to the game and watch the start, but the timing is tight, the game is about 35- 40 minute drive away and starts at 6.00pm. Our program doesn’t end until 5.00pm.
I race out the door and … DAAS have parked me in as they negotiate the intricacies of getting in and out of the wheelchair and repacking the car. I make polite conversation as I hear my phone ringing in the car – God this kid has issues about being on time!!
Ok 5.15 I’ve got the kid and she texts the coach on the way – we are going to make it before the game starts – I suggest she moves her legs a bit in the car for the warm-up she is going to miss – she’s not amused – clearly it’s not my day for making young people laugh.
On the positive, she’s been to the orthodontist and she’ll get her braces off in three weeks! I almost drive off the road with excitement. Shame about the six months of payments still to go … she better take care of these teeth they are now worth a fortune!
So I stand on the soccer sidelines and realise I’ve forgotten my coat, the wind bites as I shiver. I eat a packet of chips for dinner, I just couldn’t go the microwaved sausage roll which was the only other option at the club canteen. The opposition scores two quick goals and I figure I’m not going to miss much leaving early.
Back in the car at 6.30 make it to the theatre in time for a trip to the loo. I even manage to put on some lipstick, I’m really making an effort here.
The theatre is hot. I may end up with pneumonia from today’s temperature extremes.
Turns out even a fun night out involves death for me. It’s only tonight that I realise the show is called Near Death Experience. Flacco starts with a monologue about dying doing what you love – rock fishing anyone?
Now if you are not familiar with The Doug Anthony Allstars this is going to be difficult to explain. They are a musical comedy trio. In the 80’s and early 90’s they were a group of smart arse young men producing politically incorrect, satirical, pushing the boundary comedy. In 2016 one of the trio, Richard Fidler, has got a real job so he can’t make the tour, but Paul McDermott and Tim Ferguson have returned to the stage with Paul “Flacco” Livingstone as replacement “guitarist”. The humour is still very, very rude covering a wide range of topics from Ebola to porn. Although now the added edge to the show is the passing of time. Ferguson’s illness and wheelchair are integral part of the performance and his monologues are funny and moving. Perhaps more so when you have first-hand experience of life’s limited hours there are 700 of you here tonight, one of you is going to be the first one to die, tick fucking tock.
As we leave the theatre we review the show:
My friend: “Mcdermott really does have a lovely voice”.
Me: “I’d listen to him sing the phone book”.
My friend’s husband: “I’d listen to him sing about fucking dogs all day”.
Everyone takes different things from a performance.
According to my friend’s husband: “If you ever wondered what men talk about when you women aren’t around, you just found out.”
It was a very funny show.
I make it home in time to say goodnight to Princess Child. Crawl into bed. Mark another day off the calendar.
If you are unfamiliar with DAAS this piece by Libbi Gorr on the 7.30 Report is great.