Now that wasn't supposed to happen

So as usual, I spoke too soon...

After a whole day of running around like a headless chook, I am in need of a holiday... oh wait...

So today, I got up at sparrow fart and launched myself into the list to get everything done and dusted before lunch with general plan of relaxing and watch a movie this afternoon and just chill.


LOL... nup... didn't happen.

by lunch time, I had indeed accomplished a great deal of the list requirements and was feeling pretty good about the whole thing and of course that's just when I'm quite sure the universe thinks up the worst possible thing ( in first-world terms) to throw at me to see if I bounce. 

Sheets all washed, dried, back on the beds - check.

Sundry little jobs washed/drawn/ironed or packed - check.

Bag to the neighbours to collect my mail - check.

So it was time to just throw that new colour in to banish the greys - naturally, I'm too young for grey hair but we do what we must.   Out comes the new whizz bang dual tube squirty thing, that requires no mixing.... on it goes onto my greys and the timer goes on.

Half way through the developing time, I took a peek to see how its traveling, and it strikes me as odd that it is kind of baby poo brown.  It should be very very dark by now and I should be worrying about how its going to come off my skin.  But no... it appeared to be lightening rather than darkening my long and now piebald locks and the no-drip formula is in rivulets down my face.  

Rather distressed, I resolve to give it 10 more minutes and then start pondering Plan B.  About this point, DMM arrives in the room - she'd 'lost' her passport and the sky was apparently going to fall.

Yes, she had looked 'everywhere'.  Yes, she'd looked in her carry on.  Yes, she'd upended everything that was only moments before been 'going away tidy'.  Yes, she had SERIOUSLY looked everywhere.  It had apparently just vanished.

So putting my own melt down on hold, mother marches up into DMM's room, unzips the carry on' just to check mind you' - extracts said passport - and without a word, locates said daughter, places said passport in hand and renews ones own melt down over not being 'basilica' brown but rather 'should not have eaten that curry last night' beigy-brown.

Not the look I was chasing.

Now I did go to the shops and buy another darker brown, but weary isn't even a rough approximation of how tired I am, so if I get a second wind, well, I'll be basilica brown, but if not, hair chalks and hats, here I come.  

So  with dinner in the oven, and my bed still strewn with clothes, shoes, underwear, electrical cords and a plethora of other 'travel necessities'  I'm still not ready. 

here's hoping the next 12 hours are fruitful and I get some sleep.  La La Land, here we come.