It has been a pretty crazy week here at CWC HQ. It’s school holidays, one of our pups got attacked by another dog and had to have surgery and an overnight stay at the (gorgeous) vets, and our footy team got into the grand final, which means we have been going completely batshit crazyslightly excited trying to get tickets to the biggest game of the year.
And that is just the additional stuff. Normal life with normal work and play, has continued on, as it always does.
I had a fun idea last week over on the Chicks Who Click Facey page: I thought you could all vote for your favourite design on something we are planning, and I could draw a name out live on FB (Facebook live is the new black, isn’t it?), and then send off a little pressie to the winner.
Sounds pretty easy, but of course, like all good ideas that I have in the shower at 6am, they lack a bit of detail. Simple things like: how do I actually do FB Live? And: what present shall I actually send? So yeah, minor details.
I sort offigured it all out, and frankly was feeling a bit chuffed at my computery skillz, and present organising skillz, as I trotted off to the vetshopspostoffice to get everything handled.
I ran into the post office at 4.53pm, just in time to post the shit out of that present, and race home to cook dinner.
Tasks=zero, Alison=3. #winning.
This morning I popped out to the car to retrieve a child I’d left in theremy phone charger, to find that in my excitement to post off the little presents, the main item. which I had referred to in the note I sent the present had fallen out of the bag, and was sitting perkily on the centre console, waiting to be smashed into a thousand shards of shame and dismayposted.
There is no other real point to this blog post, other than to say that obviously tomorrow I will be going back to the post office, and, to remind you that when you see someone who looks like they’ve got it going on, they probably don’t, at least not completely. And when you rate yourself, and think you actually have it going on, you very well might, or you might have unexpectedly left stuff all over the place.
And tomorrow will be another day.