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