Today was my bi-annual Bridget Jones day. It’s the day for me when everything that can go wrong will go wrong.

The first clue that I wasn’t destined to have a nice day was waking up with a snort due to an entire night of blocked nose and headache. There is nothing that says sexy mama, like a snort in the morning. Undeterred I decided to drag my shattered body out of bed with the conviction that if I just freshen up, get dressed and slap a bit of make up on, then all shall be right with the world. Lil Fella did not agree.

‘Come on little buddy,’ I croaked, ‘It’s wake up time!’

‘No it’s not,’ mumbled Lil Fella from under the pillow, ‘it’s still early. Dad just left.’

‘Sweetness, that was two hours ago.’ I informed him whipping off the duvet.

‘No it wasn’t’ he insisted. Clearly this was going nowhere. I had no energy to deal with this and left the room. ‘I’m getting ready,’ I said on the way out, ‘I recommend you do the same.’

The second clue came when I looked out the window. Actually clue  number two was much more sneaky than that. I was looking out to check the weather. After peering out for a minute I concluded that yes it was damp but there was no rain to be had and therefore Uggs and woolies were the way to go. By now I was feeling dreadful and decided I needed clothes that would hug me as I went along. So with me dressed and Lil Fella reluctantly ready, I put my best foot forward, out the door and straight into a downpour. Blast it.

But never fear, for I have in my home the Biggest Brolley In London. No need to change out of my comfy clothes when we have an umbrella the size of a small car. So we attempted to leave again, this time under the Brolley and ready for anything. Almost. After kissing the wee lad and sending him on his merry way down to school, I made my way down to the station. It was about this time that the Biggest Blast of Wind in London decided to take on the Biggest Brolley in London and for a split second I thought I was about to go all Mary Poppins, and fly through the air. No such luck. The Brolley took a hammering, and in the space of a second, it flipped inside out and then the world went dark. It took me some time to realise that it had collapsed on me. What a dork! I was wrapped in buckled brolley and still walking, well stumbling, well bashing into things. I blame the blocked nose and lack of sleep, but logic eventually kicked in and I ran back home and dumped the thing in the hallway. I needed a hat. A wooley one would have to do.

Attempt number three at leaving the house and now, the weather sees that I am without brolley, and chucks it down even more. I gave up at this point and trudged through the rain and off towards the station. Along the way I realised that my boots were soaked through, my hat was even more soaked through, and just for giggles, I discovered a hole in my glove.

But the day was not yet finished. I got to work and although heavily dosed up to the hilt with various snot busting medication, still I had issues. This slowly progressed throughout the day and by 5pm it was clear to me that this was no allergy I was dealing with.  Mercifully Big Daddy, being sensitive to my plight of patheticness, offered to pick up Lil Fella from daycare and insisted that I go straight home and get into bed.

And the final clue that this was indeed the bi-annual Bridget Jones day? Well technically I would’ve posted this about an hour ago, but due to some technical glitch that has never happened before on my blog, and I doubt will ever happen again. I lost the entire of my first draft of this… So there you have it. One wet, cold, snotty, klutzy, painful, blocked, exhausting day.

UK Saffa over and out………