I flopped on the couch last night after dinner with great relief. My brain had just hit its computational limits. After the rush of Thursdays excitement, Friday was spent dealing with the reality that is the death throes of preparting a thesis for submission. My brain actually hurt...forging a straight line from a web is no mean feat. So i crashed on the couch at half 8 with a glass of wine , probably groaning out loud with relief. I was very not happy when half an hour later i checked the diary... fuck.
Montessori Cake stall; Sat 10-12 (2 batches of goods promised)
[insert mental expletive; to tired to express it]
So i drag my suitable for outside clothes back on (well, my bra and skirt) hop in the car at 9pm, drive to an open shop and get the stuff we dont have, race back, put the oven on and cook up a batch of biscuits and a slice. Not what i was hoping to be doing last night at 10pm and today is certainly not going to see the brunch we had planned for this morning with the whole family. I dont do those rude shocks very well but i have to say I was proud of the lack of whinging and self pity that i managed to control. I figured it could have been worse; it could have been a hard core school working bee or school camp i'd agreed to attend this morning. So, im off in an hour to 'woman' the stall.