This weekend saw the return of the 'slightly less
calm' (understatement!!) version of me!
After a few rather blissful weeks of feeling fabulous
emotionally & physically and most certainly looking the best I have for a
while... It all went entirely to pot...
Saturday morning I had plans for brunch with one of my
closest friend. This particular friend has been in my life since the first day
of school and for that reason never fails to bring out the child in me.
There are very few people with whom I entirely relax
and be myself; she's definitely one of them. There is (I must say) a third
musketeer who evokes the same feelings; she unfortunately had plans this
particular Saturday morning.
Anyhow, we were meeting at 11am and I was particularly
excited as she was looking after her 10 month old niece, who I have to say is
just beautiful.
I was up early (as usual) to get myself ready, wash my
hair etc.
Now, I've not mentioned this in any previous blog
posts, but I'm particularly terrible with directions. A big part of my problem (I'm
ashamed to say) is laziness. I never concentrate when I'm being taken somewhere
and if I'm driving I sort of let the Sat Nav do the work... I also (honestly)
have zero sense of direction. If it's left, I'll 100% "trust my gut"
and go right!
My friend was at her mum and dad's house for the
weekend, I've of course been to this house many times in the past, however not
in the last decade & not from my new country location.
So, before I left I asked the Hubs (as I was running
late, despite being up at the crack of dawn) to plug the address into the Sat
Nav. I read out the address and he did as directed (or so I thought)
As he kissed me goodbye he said "don't forget to
put petrol in the car". The night before we'd been for a lovely dinner at
his Aunts house and apparently the petrol light had come on during the journey
home.
Off I went. Smiles beaming.
As I pulled up to the petrol station I noticed it was
closed, a little annoying but I thought nothing of it. There would of course be another one very soon.
The Sat Nav was showing that the journey would take 30
mins. This was very much in line with how long I thought it was going to take,
so again I thought nothing of it.
It's also worth mentioning here that our Sat Nav is
quite zoomed in so you only see the next few steps, you don't see the end point
(error!)
Fifteen minutes later I was in quite unfamiliar
surrounding... After going round down a number of backstreets I found myself on
rather a large road. As I've already mentioned, I'm new to my current area so
couldn't really tell if something was up or not….
I had already started to panic at this stage though...
Not entirely about my location, more about the lack of petrol in the car. Since
leaving the house and passing the closed petrol station, I had not passed
another, and the tank was dangerously close to empty.
Now this is where some might question my intelligence.
The Sat Nav (who I always listen to) was telling me that at the next roundabout
I should turn right and join the motorway... I'm not gonna lie, something
didn't feel right considering there is no motorway I could think of that linked
my house to my friends parents house.
So, there I was.
On the
motorway.
Clearly going the wrong way with zero petrol.
The next road sign was where I clocked what had
happened...
The first exit, which was 3/4 miles away (no, there
wasn’t a service station between getting on and the first exit) was where I
really started to realise what may have happened, as the name of the location was
pretty familiar to me.
As I turned off, in a state of pure panic and fury it
all became clear. It was HIS fault.
He'd clearly accidentally
pressed the wrong button and told the Sat Nav to take me to the last place it
took me too, my friends house who lives half an hour away from us in the
opposite direction of where I needed to be.
It was this point I called him.
I'm not going to say I was in anyway my usually lovely
self.
No petrol.
In the middle of no where (I’ve only been here a few
times and never alone)
Late to meet my friend, and an hour away from her.
I wasn't pleasant.
I also was not at all calm.
He obviously didn't mean for this to happen, nor could
he understand how it did happen.
In my mind, I didn't care how. It had happened and it
was his fault.
For future reference, nothing annoys me more than
being told to calm down when I'm clearly not calm. I'd of thought he'd know
this by now. Clearly not. After a good few minutes of shouting (me, not him) he
was off the phone after telling me not to move.
Whilst my concern was my friend and how late he had
made me to meet her, his (quite rightly so) was the dangerously low amount of
fuel in the car.
A few short minutes later he called back. I hadn't
calmed at all by this point, in case you were wondering, oh no, I was quite as
frantic as ever (poor Baby J)
When back on the phone he slowly and calmly directed
me down a few country lanes to a petrol station.
Without saying thank you (I was still raging) I hung
up, filled up and purchased an oversized bar of Dairy Milk (very unlike me!!!)
I then sat at the side of the road and ate the entire
thing. I started to feel calmer and a little embarrassed.
I plugged in the correct address and the Sat Nav
showed me the way. It was going to take an hour.
I text my friend and apologised profusely. She was
fine about the delay; she just wanted to know where I'd ended up. I ignored her
questions as it was just ‘too soon’ (I know how melodramatic I sound) knowing
that at brunch (well lunch) I'd be 'ready' to talk about it.
Ten minutes later, I was back on the motorway heading
in the right direction.
At this point I called the Hubs... (hands free) to
apologise.
He's such a sweetie and wasn't angry in the
slightest at my vile behaviour.
He was relieved I was now calm (he was also thrilled
that the car was full of petrol and that he wasn't going to have to sort out a
tow!)
Eventually I arrived at the gorgeous
little café, ‘The Dolls House on the Hill’, it’s such a cute little place which
happened to be Suzanne Neville’s shop in a former life (I love Suzanne Neville
as she made my gorgeous wedding gown)
After running to the loo (an hour and a
half with no toilet break is quite distressing for a pregnant lady!) I sat down
and told her the story (minus the oversized Dairy Milk), which she of course
found hilarious.
A couple of hours later, I was on my way
back home. Calm, happy, full of baby love (her niece really is stunning) and
jacket potato.
I know it is silly to get so stressed
over things like this, but I can’t say I’ve learned anything from it. I may have over-reacted and I may have not used my brain ‘that’ much
but it wasn’t really my fault!!
I will say this though, I read online
(not sure if this is true) that at 6 months the baby starts to pick up on my
emotions. Well, I’m 6 months today so hopefully he was spared my feelings this weekend,
but I do in general need to chill out a little.
I do find that my emotions are heightened
(to say the least) at the moment, and I do need to get a grip sometimes…. It’s
tough though! I suppose it is good that I am at least aware of it so I can try
and have a little talking to myself next time I am about to explode!!!
