Morning Gory

Well this morning I managed to make a bigger mess of myself than usual.

I had an 9am appointment with my wonderful speech therapist Kate, at the Outpatients of the North Staffs Hospital. Last night I realised as usual I had totally neglected to practice my speech as she had advised. I would have to make time in the morning

Plan A: 6am Wake Up, Have a wee!, Bath, Hair, Breakfast, Makeup, Practice Speech, 8.15 Set off in time to get car parking space, 9am Speech Therapy, and Relax.....In the words of Hannibal Smith "I love it when a plan comes together"

I failed at the third hurdle.

6am alarm went off, Got up, had wee, Fine so far then..Got back in bed for a vital extra 15 mins sleep, 7.46 woke up again, 7.48 finally realised I had overslept, 7.50 finished panicking and got up.

I needed a Plan B: 7.50 Wake Up, Bath, Hair, shortened Breakfast, 8.20 Set off for Hospital, Practice speech while driving. Find parking space in time, Do make up in my car, 9 am Speech Therapy, and Relax...

I rescheduled makeup to the car to save time earlier on. If I got to the hospital a bit later then all the spaces would be taken. Doing my speech practice in the car would be fine and a good use of time management. It would be like doing my homework on the school bus, just with less shaky handwriting!

The first part of plan B went like clockwork. So precisely at 8.20 as planned, I donned some inadequate sunglasses as a futile disguise and left the house otherwise barefaced. At 8.40 I am in traffic practicing my soft H words, and the trying to mimic Sheilagh Foggerty, the nicely voiced Radio 5 news presenter. I felt quite positive about my voice. I was improving. For some reason I looked down at my handbag. I looked a lot emptier than usual. Mmmmmm. The penny dropped slowly. Where was my makeup ? I vainly rummaged with one hand. Nothing. My practiced female voice gave way immediately to a gutteral yell "*********!!!!!". There was no way I could walk into a crowded hospital with absolutely no makeup on. I had been ok dashing to the car unseen, and driving with the sunglasses on, but walking through with blotchy skin and the highly visible shadow from a thorough shaving. Not a pretty sight. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face it with such a face. I had to turn back and retrieve my precious makeup.

I finally got to the hospital at 9.10. I hate being late. Of course there were no parking spaces left, so I risked the wrath of a parking wardens and parked in a consultant only space. I had no time for the full facial slapping on of makeup, so I just used some cover stick over the worst areas, bit of lippy and sunglasses over my unmade and baggy eyes. So I walked through the busy hospital in my sunglasses like a Z list celebrity, trying not to be seen, while trying to be seen! I entered Kate's consulting room, with much huffing and apologising. She smiled kindly, and to her credit did not flinch when I removed my glasses.

I had a good session, and feel like I am making progress. Sadly Kate informed me she is retiring and that I would have a new therapist. Kate has been brilliant in boosting my confidence and I will miss our sessions. I will now have another poor therapist to be a victim of my rambling neurosis.

Gosh, life was simpler, way back when.