The most horrendous thing happened to me last night! Knowing we had guests to dinner, I stopped off on the way home from the Day Job to get a few extra things, decided to pay with my Maestro card and was knocked for six when the card was refused twice. Fortunately I had enough cash on me to cover it but I was so embarrassed. I couldn't understand it. I only got paid two days before. Then I remembered - the mortgage and a number of direct debits had all gone out together and this was one of the few months of the year that the input date of my salary differentiated to Hubby's.
Normally they do coincide quite comfortably but this month - not a chance. I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me as the long queue of people at the checkout behind me, fidgeted and tutted as I rummaged around in my bag and purse for any loose change I could lay my hand to. That the majority of the £12.00 plus was eventually scraped together out of fifty and twenty pence pieces did not help. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. To make it worse, I could not barge through my front door and tell Hubby how perfectly awful the experience had been because there were our two guests , sitting comfortably, nodding a greeting. They smiled sweetly as I rattled on about how sorry I was to be late to our own dinner party but there had been long queues ... the bus was late ... the bag almost split ... the till had broken down. Even Hubby gave me a funny look that intimated I was babbling incoherently, so please just stop, you're here now, let's get on with the evening.
Do you know, when I read The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella the first time, I almost wet myself laughing when protagonist Becky Bloomwood found herself stranded at a fashionable department store with baskets full of goods she could not pay for because all her cards had maxed out! But it ain't that funny when it happens to you and I hope it never happens again. I would sooner go one on one with the hounds of hell than watch my card get refused in front of a shop full of people again! Thank goodness Hubby's pay goes in tomorrow!
Despite everything the dinner party went off well. SpagBol is always a success, don't you find? Our two guests, who are Polish, cleared their plates and beamed their appreciation as we downed our second glass of Polish white wine (semi-sweet, quite fruity, very palatible) and then attacked the Vienetta with great gusto. Afterwards, we talked animatedly about their forthcoming wedding in Krakow and they looked at our wedding photographs. They asked about my writing and bought a copy of my book (which they insisted I sign) and then left. Fotunately, soon after getting home earlier, I'd had a chance to run upstairs, freshen up and change, during which time I scrawled a brief note to Hubby to explain what had happened. He went off to work shortly before our guests departed and muttered as he kissed me goodbye at the front door, "I got your note, don't panic, we'll meet for coffee in the morning."
Once everyone had gone and the clearing up was finished, I sank onto the sofa with a bar of strong dark chocolate and watched some 'B' movie about a swarm of killer ants invading a passenger plane. Finally sank into bed around 11.30. I don't know - nothing is ever easy, is it? And really where can one go when one hits rock bottom? The answer? Forward, forward, forward. It can only get better (and surely can't get any worse) .....
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