Ouch+Oops

You know the phrase, "Some days you're the fly, some days you're the windscreen?" well for some reason, most days seem to have me in the role of windscreen.

The last few days seem to have been filled with me being busy, running around doing stuff, sorting stuff, going out and about and generally running about like a blue-arsed fly.  Housework, Blood Tests, School Runs, Shopping, Vet Appointments, School Appointments...

Last night was a proper Insomniac Night.  I was in bed just before 9pm, reading as usual and felt shattered.  Completely and utterly exhausted.  I was reading, but not sure how much actually sank in. Yay for reading comprehension skills.  Kellie was also knackered, and we skipped our usual night-time phone call as she had passed out on the sofa.  Bless.  So, I tried to get to sleep, and every time my eyes felt heavy, I popped awake.

No idea why, I just did.

And on and on and on... I tried listening to music, I tried listening to white noise, I tried silence, I tried sitting up, laying down, on either side, I tried the sofa...  I tried some milk, I had a wander around the house - where two sleeping children rubbed salt in the wound by snoring - but no joy.

So, today I am tired, I am cranky, and I have a hefty dose of "Can't Be Arsed Itus"  Of course, that doesn't mean I can just sit and flop out.

Sally dog needs a bath - I mean, she NEEDS a bath.  I am sure Kellie or Gemma will back me up on this, but a dog that is poorly an incapable of washing herself thanks to the Collar of Shame... Well, you can imagine.

Before all that, I had to get kids ready for school, sort lunch boxes, sort uniform, get Jaysen out the door on time, get Tam and me out the door on time...

So there were are, standing at the bus stop, freezing my proverbials off, when along comes Mr Bus.  There were a couple of people already waiting, so in true British fashion, I step aside and have the brief "No after you, no no, I insist" conversation.

So, making sure Tam is getting the bus - and thus, I am looking DOWN at the wee monkey - I step into the bus.  Well, that't not technically true.

I step into the buses wing mirror.  The great, big, bright yellow, made-of-metal, sticking-out-a-mile wing mirror.  And it's not just a brief *bump* but I give it a good KERBLANG! right on the side of my head.

I hit the bloody thing so hard, my knees went and I had to hold on to the door to stop me going to my knees, right in the side of the head on my temple, and cracked my pierced eyebrow good and proper for good measure.  My teeth cracked together, and there were little specks floating in my eyesight.

You know what makes it even worse?  Two things.  One; Mr Bus Driver says "Hmm, going to have to adjust that back now..." No no, I'm OK thanks.  Two; the bus was packed.  I mean, it HAD to be really, didn't it.  You never do really stupid things in the privacy of your own home, do you.

I got my ticket, and it was all I could do to not run hell for leather to the far end of the bus so people weren't looking down at me.  Every eye was on me.

EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON.

There were mutterings, murmerings, giggling, glances back at me, stifled grins...

Even when most of them got off the bus at the town centre, most of the got up and happened to look back at me.

The support from Gemma and Kellie was excellent thankfully.  Gemma and Pete both laughed and took the piss, and Kellie even text me a "heeheehee"  To save me SOME dignity, Gemma and Pete were passing town, so dropped me off there to get the bus home.

Guess which bus and driver it was...