Incapacitation Insanity!

may on the bog
May, I hear you are a little indisposed?

I had to look incapacitated up. I am not prone to using big words, because more often than not I don’t understand them.

Incapacitated lacking in or deprived of strength or power; lying ill and helpless
“helpless with laughter”

When I saw the description, it was the lying ill and helpless bit that I focused on, you see I have not been here for a while because I myself was in that situation. Something terrible happened. I broke a nail!

Now I don’t expect guys to understand the importance of having beautifully manicured digits, but ladies, come on, you get it, right?! It’s like walking out of the house with your skirt stuck in your knickers, mor-ti-fying!!

Owing to the fact that it happened on a Saturday night there was not a lot I could do until the Monday. I phoned into work sick, and unable to think of another excuse I used RSI or Repetitive Strain Injury as it’s also known. Well I mean I wasn’t really telling any lies, because my hand was in agony as a result of the furious filing required to make my poor nail look somewhat decent.

My next call brought nothing but more pain. I had completely forgotten that Monday was my beauticians day off, which left me speaking to Marina, the bitch of the brows. After the previous incident with her and the leggings, there was just no way I was going to sit down and let her work on any part of me. So I asked if there was any chance of an emergency appointment on the Tuesday.

Marina: Broken a nail or something? (said in an extremely sarcastic tone)

Me: I’ll break your face if you don’t put me in the diary for tomorrow (smiling sweetly, even though she couldn’t see me).

Appointment made, it was then back onto the phone with work. Peppering ‘ouch’ throughout the conversation had the desired effect of gaining me another day off, however I was reminded of a meeting I was to attend that afternoon. That’s why I hate Mondays! Horrified at the fact I might have to leave the house in such a state, or worse still attend a meeting in the middle of summer wearing gloves, I started to get a little flustered. My boss, who I have to say is rather good at picking up on my anxiety suggested it might be possible to complete the meeting via conference call, or Skype. Without thinking things through, I readily accepted, I was just glad I did not have to actually go into work.

I spent the rest of the day tidying up a little, I certainly didn’t want my big boss seeing the mess that had accumulated over the weekend, and could not be tidied owing to the broken nail!

I hate waiting for a Skype call, it means you have to walk everywhere with the required device at a short enough distance to ensure the call is not missed. At about 2 minutes to 3pm, the time allocated for the call, my lunch time Tuna sandwich decided to make a surprise reappearance, typical right! But it was better to pay a visit to the loo than have someone hear the gurgling and rumbling of my poor stomach.

Trying to keep myself calm I left the tablet on the dresser and headed for the toilet. I had only just sat myself down, when the bloody thing started to ring. FFS, I’ve heard of getting caught with your pants down, but this was ridiculous! Imagine a rabbit caught in headlights, hovering over a toilet…that was me!

I cannot stress how important this meeting was, and how vital it was that I make some kind of appearance. I certainly did not envisage being naked from the waist down, and was beginning to realise that I might have been safer just going into work.

The device continued to ring and was in the process of vibrating itself off the edge of the dresser onto the the tiled floor below. Holding onto my knickers which were at this point round my ankles I made an awkward dive and somehow managed to catch the kamikaze tablet mid fall.

Me: Oh thank feck!

The Big Boss: Good afternoon Miss Dupp, have we called at an inconvenient time, I hear you are a little indisposed.

Oh balls, balls, balls, I’d only gone and answered the call at the critical point of rescue.

Me: More than you know Sir, more than you know.

The Big Boss: Shall we begin.

My mind was going ten to the dozen with the statement ‘ah feck’ seemingly stuck on repeat. What the hell was I going to do. Here I was back on the toilet, naked from the waist down, trying to hold a tablet at a modest distance, with a broken nail and alleged repetitive strain injury. W T absolute F!!

Me: Ah Sir, I might need a few moments just to compose myself and get organised.

The Big Boss: (there was most certainly laughter in the background) Yes Miss Dupp, I think you might indeed need a few moments. I certainly hope however that you will not ‘pee’ long, umm forgive me, I do of course mean be long. (at this point hysterical laughter could be heard from the Head office of the Captain Cosmetic Company).

I finished the meeting on the toilet and I also learned a valuable lesson, find a beautician who opens on a Sunday!

Farewell for now Facebook!

6637390653_08fd4611fb_nI deactivated Facebook today. I make it seem like it was such a hard thing to do. Really it wasn’t. I have no cold sweats.

With me it was a bit of a love / hate relationship. I have to hold my hand up and say I have been one of those people who when we’ve taken a funny picture has said, hurry up, get that posted. Some of our posts have been legendary, the kind of laughing that ends in tears, I have some extremely witty friends!

But on the other side I hate all the inane status posts. “I’m putting the dinner on”,  “Nom Nom my dinner was lovely”, “Doing the dishes”. I mean seriously come on, who cares.

Anyone who has read my blog previously will know I play Candy Crush. It gives me something to do on my long train journeys to and from work.That said I am very conscious about not forwarding requests to the non Candy Crushers on my list as I myself know how frustrating it can be to get literally thousands of requests for games you don’t play. BEWARE Bakebook buddies, if I come back  any more Farmville requests and it’ll be a mow down and not a hoedown!

It’s been about 10 hours since the big delete and I have to be honest and say I miss it, but not for the reasons you might think. I miss that I no longer have  pictures for my contacts in my phone and for the fact that I will either have to rejoin or pay for plane tickets in Candy Crush if I want to progress. I’ll miss it for keeping in touch with friends and family overseas, but there is always Skype.

I won’t miss all the little behind the scenes privacy changes that you didn’t find out about until after your details have been plastered all over the net. I won’t miss my location being tagged.  I won’t miss having to dodge people that I just don’t want to add because I know they will be offended by some of our unbelievable stupidity (we forget what age we are sometimes).

How long will I last? Who cares!

Image courtesy of Harco Rutgers