Roaring Laughter, My Netherworld

Roaring Laughter – My Netherworld

What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?

Showing the way, when opening doors or parking in car parks, pay attention.

Showing the way, when opening doors or parking in car parks, pay attention.

“This is how I feel, it may as well be a Netherworld.

I am not kidding when I say this. Literally I get out of my car, get distracted and fail to take notice of landmarks like colour coding and Levels…”

When I laughed at myself retelling this story posted under Wrong Turns, here is part of it, (so o.k., I didn’t exactly roar with laughter, but it was funny in the telling), my natural “scattiness” is not improving. My girls joke that they don’t know how I manage to cross the road, never mind that I managed to raise three daughters and have traveled alone and worked in Asia:

Wrong Turns 

“Off I go, distracted. On my return I am in the queue to pay, with impatient individuals behind me who stop just short of riding onto my heels with their laden trolleys. I start to fish in my bag for the ticket. I can’t find it, so I have to stand aside. Since I seldom carry cash, having been relieved of over R500 once, and theft is prevalent, I have learnt my lesson, but this also means I seldom have any cash at all, especially not coins or notes that will be accepted by the machine. I rummage some more, by this time embarrassed and flustered, with cash slips spilling from my wallet, raining like confetti, (I always think I will refer to them when budgeting, but I seldom do). The fine for a lost ticket is R300. Finally, I pass this hurdle. But now I need to find my car. I wonder around heading in the direction I think it is. I’m sure this is where it was. Up and down several levels. Now I am convinced my car has been stolen. I approach a security guard, who radios others. I ask if they can access CCTV footage. They say yes. We search. Finally I come across my car, not at all where I thought I had left it. Sheepishly I explain that in fact my car has not been stolen. But, I have to find the keys…”

Image courtesy Carol Knox.


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