It was 4am on a Wednesday morning. Five days after I’d had surgery.
I was on my way to Sydney for a TV appearance.
To be honest, I didn’t really feel up to it. But I’d agreed to do it long before the surgery had been scheduled, and I hadn’t wanted to be rude and cancel.
So, there I was, all bandaged up, in the back of a car, being driven through the early morning. It was cold and rainy. I was sore and not nearly as caffeinated as I would have liked.
I kept thinking about Hakavai and Michael snoozing happily, all snug and warm in bed.
I was feeling Sorry For Myself. Big time.
So, to cheer myself up, I turned to my bag and rummaged for my little lunchbox.
And, sh*t. I’d left it at home.
I had a vision of my snacks (a blueberry muffin bar, banana, and some almond butter) sitting forlorn on the kitchen bench.
F*ckkkkkkkkk.
Three long, hungry hours later, I arrived in Sydney.
I hobbled up the stairs to the studio and through the doors, catching the side of my bandaged foot on the glass as I walked through. Ouch.
I was now most definitely in a Bad Mood.
I walked into the waiting area, and found the lounges overtaken by a big group of cool girls, in cool outfits, clutching warm coffees and chatting brightly amongst themselves. They all seemed to know each other.
“Hello!” I said, in the cheeriest voice I could muster.
They glanced up, said nothing, and kept on chatting. No one seemed to know who I was, why I was there or even offer me a seat.
I felt mortified. Like I was the wrong person, in the wrong place and definitely in the wrong outfit.
So, because I am a Grown Up, I left the room, went straight to the toilets, locked myself in a cubicle, and cried.
It felt like my first day at high school all over again. Despite my protests, my Dad had dropped me off right at the school gate. And as I hopped out of our 1981 rust-coloured minivan wearing an ANKLE LENGTH plaid skirt, I realised I had made a huge mistake.
Before me was a sea of mini-skirt clad girls who had definitely not followed the skirt length restrictions laid out in the school guidelines.
Wrong person, wrong place, wrong outfit.
But I was no longer a 13 year old girl with a nerdy penchant for guidelines and systems and rulebooks! I was a 30 year old woman with a nerdy penchant for guidelines and systems and rulebooks!
So, I splashed some water on my face, chucked on some lippy, looked in the mirror and said “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER TURIA! You’re a successful woman, who’s kicking goals all over the place, with a damn sexy man and arguably the cutest baby in the whole universe. You’re going to go out there and let your magnificent bubbly personality shine through!”
And did that work?
Nah, not really.
It wasn’t the best day. But I got on with it.
I did my interview. I hobbled back to the car and that night I got into bed with Michael and Hakavai and I went to sleep, happily.
We can never quite escape the situations that embarrass us, or make us feel small.
They’re part of life.
But luckily, we get to experience some wonderful things too.
If you’re having a bad day, that’s OK!
You can always hem your skirt and start again tomorrow.
Turia xx
PS – My book Good Selfie is a lovely little thing, and a guaranteed pick me up on an otherwise crappy day.
And (bonus!) it also contains lots of cool ideas and strategies for getting through crappy days! What a clever book, written by a demonstrably clever person! ??
Check it out here. I think you’ll find it rather delightful.
