Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Why can't I do more than one thing at once?

I am so easily distracted. And I’m not very good at doing more than ONE thing at once. Lets just say I’m pretty sure I will never be a CEO. Lets just take a look at 3 instances over the last week that have prevented me from carrying out the simplest of tasks, such as writing for this blog.


First off, the Airport Laptop incident...


So I'm coming through airport security last week and I was completely distracted by trying to avoid those awful people who want to stick their magic wand in my bag. Every time, and I mean EVERY time, I go through security they stop me. I’m sure it's because I’m a near 40yo dressing like a 21yo. I was so distracted trying to time my perfect run so as to avoid the wand that I left my beautiful, much loved, relatively new laptop on the security rollers. BLAH!!!! IDIOT!!!


I didn't realise until I'd landed back in Sydney. So dumb. I immediately tweet the beautiful people at Qantas Customer Service and they help me sort it out (I love the customer service benefits of Twitter! Qantas lead the way). I think it was Audrey who was a dream, then the wonderful Daryl at the Security checkpoint who found it and held for me. So relieved, so happy. Tweeted all my dramas and in the process found the wonderful MichelleLLeslie was coming through the airport later that day and she brought it home for me. So darling of her! Thanks Twitter for solving all my problems.


But alas, this was last Thursday and I still haven’t been able to pick it up from the lovely Michelle. Why you ask, its been 5 days??? Well the much dreaded repeat offender, the Man-Flu, has gripped me again!


So over it! By Sunday my chest was in trauma. Truth be known, I knew I was coming down with something on Thursday but stupidly, distractedly, completely wrote myself off on Thursday night. I thought my first vodka could be quite medicinal, sure as hell the 25th one wasn’t. Friday I do believe, in my Harden-The-Fuck-Up way, that I was close to death.


And I am the worlds worst sick person. I get so distracted by the fact that I’m sick that I can’t possibly do anything else. I sit on the lounge, watch Law & Orders and I pop pills. I had about 6 different pill boxes on the go at one point on Saturday. I am the world’s best self-medicator. Hasn’t seem to do much good though, but Monday night the dark cloud lifted somewhat. Dead keen to function like a normal human being on Tuesday.


And the icing on the distracted cake... I had a house guest for the weekend. Poor bastard. Had my dear friend (and ex-ex-boyfriend) The Sculptor up from Melbourne for the weekend. He had to fly solo on Friday and Sunday nights, a wingman covered in snot and phlegm is never a good look on Oxford St. So mature to be able to go cruising with your ex. Aschapelle and I are definitely not at that point yet, maybe some day, The Sculptor and I were 10 years ago. He was in town to teach bored rich housewives how to sculpt so I got no sympathy or support for my Man-Flu from him during the day. At least I had the lounge to myself to wallow in self-pity.


Next time he’s in town he’s taking me to manly leather bars. Can you imagine? 2011 is about broadening my horizons and that sure as hell will. The Sculptor is an expert. Dear lord what have I got myself into?


So my slackness in posting is because I’m a lazy, one-dimensional whinger who has a snot/phlegm problem. In a nutshell.


PLEASE NOTE: Sorry no pics because the 1980’s laptop I am temporarily using does not connect with any technology produced after ’91.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

St Murphy great blog one question if women are called mutton when they try to dress younger what are gay men called lol xoxo
White Oprah

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