Things are a bit disorganised at the moment. In the spectrum of disorganisation I am generally on the scale of 6 out of 10. A bit more scatty than average, less bonkers than Vivienne Westwood.
So the last couple of days have been a bit more on the 8 scale. The familiar combo of juggling school pick up with a fairly demanding job led to me running to school in time for the pick up. I am proud to say that I made it. Am less proud to say that by the time I got to the after school craft class in the local church a fellow mum pointed out to me that my blouse was unbuttoned at least two too many. In front of God People. Down to my tummy button.
The shame passed quickly, after all Adam and Eve were intended to be bare. But the next day...
Well normally I get up first. I get dressed in the dark as the Lovely Husband is still snoring, despite my deliberate noises. I do the school drop, ensuring make up is applied to ensure fellow mums aren't scared.
But on the way back I noticed I had A Lot of cat hair on me. A cushion's worth. I was also wearing a top that was see through. And my belt was undone. Flapping around my legs like a quarter of a disappointed leather octopus.
9/10... I was quite relieved I had matching shoes on the correct feet. Let's be thankful for small mercies.
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