The build-up which led to me being reduced to tears by a lovely woman about quarter past six last night

So, yesterday, a reconstruction - as promised in yesterday's teaser.
(Times are approximate. I am not a neurotic who only remembers the exact time of everything. I am a neurotic who feels the need to clarify this point.)

• 4.30am: "Woke up" with a streaming nose. (Is it technically waking up if you've only dozed?) Couldn't get back to sleep.
• 6am: Babes gets called out to work.
• 7.45am: I realise the children are not willing to cooperate this morning.
  
  
• 8.30am: Drop Jack at school. (The bell is ringing.)
• 8.31am: Realise we left Jack's schoolbag at home. Pack him back into the car. (So glad Monday is our car morning.)
• 8.34am: Back at home.
• 8.38am: Back at school, with schoolbag.
  
  
• 8.55am: Driving to creche, I slip on the ice, skid off the road. Manage to stop before hitting the fence or plunging in the pond.
• 9am: At creche.
• 9.08am: Slip on ice some more.
  
  
• 9.30am: Back at home. Nose still leaking dangerously, feeling shitty.
• 11am: Go back to sleep.
• 2pm: Am woken up by phone. Think "Fuck this, the phone doesn't own me."
• 2.10pm: Still awake, wondering who phoned. Refuse to check. The phone doesn't own me, you see. Watch daytime TV. (I'm officially sick by now.)
  
  
• 2.50pm: Check phone. Was our family doctor. Panic. (Belgian doctors NEVER phone you. EVER.) Phone doctor.
• 2.51pm: Secretary picks up, says doctor has left the office, other associate is on the phone. Please phone back.
• 2.52pm: Panic some more. Who's been in an accident? Am I dying? (You know, the usual.)
• 2.55pm: Get associate doctor on the phone. She knows nothing. Manage to get mobile number of other doctor.
• 2.56pm: Other doctor picks up, tells me to wait while she puts on seatbelt.
• 2.57pm: She was only phoning to check if my thyroid was ok, and what the plan was to check it again. Not funny!
• 2.58pm: Okay, a bit funny, and kind of lovely really that she cares.
  
  
• 3.40pm: Pick up Jack, hurry to pick up Marie bacause of hospital appointment.
• 4.05pm: Picking up Marie, notice she has red stuff in her hair. Also looks like there is a bump. Am told to wait for explanation.
• 4.15pm: Woman responsible deigns to grace us with her presence. Is all red paint.
  
  
• 4.40pm: Doctor's appointment for Marie in hospital.
• 4.48pm: We arrive in the car park of the hospital.
• 4.50pm: Get number for hospital registration. Up one flight of stairs to pediatrics.
• 4.52pm: Tell pediatrics I'm there. Down same flight of stairs to registration.
• 4.54pm: Back up same flight of stairs.
  
  
• 4.55pm: In waiting room. With two bored, tired and hungry children who are not interested in the biscuits I brought. Fun!
• 5.30pm: Doctor's appointment. Doctor is puzzled as to why I'm there. Am told gently but clearly to go home and come back when something is actually wrong with her.
• 5.45pm: Doctor asks for money. Realise I have no money.
• 5.50pm: Going back down stairs to get cash at machine.
• 5.55pm: Take lift back up. (Yes, I know it was about time.)
• 5.58pm: Accidentally spill contents of handbag all over doctor's secretary's office. Very embarrassing because of:
  
  1. 4 packets of biscuits
  2. 5 lollipops
  3. 4 boxes of tictacs
  4. 2 chocolate bars
  5. bottle of water
  6. pack of playing cards
  7. balloon
  8. deodorant
  9. chap stick
  10. three random receipts
  11. 2 nappies
  12. 1 bag of wet wipes
  13. 2 wallets
  14. set of keys
  15. 2 packs of tissues
  16. 2 dirty tissues
  Have conversation with secretary about this being "one of these days."
  
  
• 6pm: Get children back down in the lift. Do the coat and jumper dance.
• 6.10pm: Children strapped in car. Lollipops handed out. Decide to do frozen pizzas for tea. This day has gone on long enough.
  
  
• 6.11pm: Realise I haven't got a valid ticket to drive out of the hospital parking lot. Curse. A lot.
• 6.14pm: At the desk, explaining that I don't have a parking ticket - could the woman please give me one.
• 6.15pm: Woman informs me that parking tickets are no longer free for patients. Realise I left all my money in the car. Dissolve in floods of tears. Get many strange looks. Apologise to staring crowd, explaining "I'm just having one of these days."
• 6.16pm: Lovely desk woman comes running after me while I'm going out of the revolving door, waving a parking ticket.
  
  
• 6.17pm: Poor Jack tells me very solemly that when we get home, I should go lie down on the sofa. Realise my error. Have conversation about parents being human, and me in particular being sick as well as tired. He doesn't seem too traumatised. We both laugh. Marie completely oblivious. Isn't it amazing how a two year old's world is all about them?
• 6.40pm: Get home, put oven on, go to get pizza. There is NO pizza. Babes phones to say he'll be late.

I shall spare you the rest of the day. Babes luckily did get home to put them in bed, and I got a temperature and just a touch of a bad mood.

Today I am still sick, but I gave myself permission to lounge on the sofa, reading stories to Marie and doing this together:

And how bad can a day be when you do that? (I love that the paper is from a box of Godiva chocolates. If you look closely, you can see the gold letters.)