Tuesday, 12 November 2013

What not to do. According to me. From my vast experience.

I have a lot of wisdom to share.  Much of it trivial.  Here's what I've learned NOT to do in the last 7 days.

Don't try to spend an afternoon at Melbourne Cup on the champs, skip breakfast the next morning, drink a large coffee and then do lots of head down poses in your yoga class.

Don't put 7 red touch rugby shirts into the wash with the white tablecloth.

Don't pretend your back doesn't hurt when it does, because after a week of acting like nothing's wrong, it will just hurt more and you will be bent in a nasty S shape surviving on Nurofen Plus.

Currently keeping me mobile.
Don't ever, ever think you will do a grocery shop and successfully purchase everything your family needs for a 7 day period.  You will be doing an emergency run to the IGA within 24 hours.  I'm thinking of requesting a designated car park outside the IGA I'm there so often.

Don't accept cake baked by your lovely neighbour thinking you'll just give it to the kids for afternoon tea.  You will end up hiding it at the back of the fridge and giving it to yourself for afternoon tea.

Innocuous foil wrapped parcel.
Conceals delicious lemon tea cake.  No way I'm sharing. 
Don't think that the perfectly good sequinned leotard and skirt worn at the dance concert will cut it for the school disco with a 'sparkly' theme.  Prepare to be hit up for trips to the shops so the ideal costume can be sourced.   Don't worry, I'm holding firm on this one.

It swirls, it sparkles.  It's not enough. 
Don't think you know anything about driving into town at peak hour just because you drive that way occasionally on the weekend.  Even leaving your own suburb between the hours of 7 and 9 can become a 40 minute mission.

Don't think when the Wilson Parking sign in North Sydney says "starting from $3" that you'll actually pay anything close to that amount for parking.  That is a joke for new players.

Right, that's it.  Don't say I didn't warn you.