Part One

1. Get into the driver’s seat.
2. Check mirrors.
3. Signal.
4. Slowly enter traffic.
5. Navigate this:

Part Two

1. Get into the driver’s seat.
2. Check mirrors, signal, slowly enter traffic.
3. Avoid the child.
4. Put car into reverse.
5. Navigate around this:

Part Three

1. Get into the driver’s seat.
2. Check mirrors, signal, slowly enter traffic, avoid the child.
3. Release the hand-break.
4. Hill start up this:

Part Four

1. Get into the driver’s seat.
2. Mirrors, signal, slowly enter traffic, avoid the child, release the hand-break.
3. Wish me luck on the upcoming driver’s test!

 

I’m sitting here minding my own business, when I see this:

Huh. Who might you be?

“Me? Oh, I’m just a nice little figment of your imagination, brought about by an overly busy day. Consider me your point of de-stress.”

You? You’re my point of de-stress? You seem very sure of yourself for someone I’ve just met. You certain about that?

“Oh yes.”

Is that…a cheesy grin? What have you got to be grinning about, might I ask?!

Yup. I even have…

A mustache. Seriously.

“Well, I’m in love.”

In love. My imaginary figment is in love.

“Yup. His name is Juan.”

One?

“No, Juan. You’ve met him.”

I have.

Yup.

Oh good Lord…

“We’re very happy together.”

I can see that. Is that a hipster scarf?!

“He’s very on trend.”

I wouldn’t be sure about that, hipsters aren’t hip any more.

“That might explain why his sister thinks he’s naff.”

His sister?

Oh sweet Jesus.

“You okay?”

I take it, so, she’s not a fan of your relationship.

“Not really, she doesn’t believe in same hand relationships.”

…

And what do the rest of your family think?

Oh they just adoooore him!

Our heroine slams down the laptop cover, resolves to not eat any more cheese late at night, and goes to bed….

I had one major job to do today, which was to find a set of keys I have around here somewhere. These keys were important; I had to find them. I asked my husband if he’d seen them and he told me that if he was certain of one thing, it was they weren’t in the car. I agreed with him, he never put keys there, too risky.

So I set my alarm early to try and get time away from my little boy, so as to go at this uninterrupted. It’s not easy to arrange.

As it was, he was awake before me, and I had to get him to drift back asleep before I could slip downstairs. I walked into the kitchen and became aware for the first time of just how many places there were available to store keys.

I tried the rats’ pile on the butcher block near the light switch. No luck, but I did find two rolls of sellotape and a pocket warmer (don’t ask). I also found an unopened pack of plastic key holders. I have no idea why I have these, I don’t own that many keys.

Then it was the drawer near the radio, and there was nothing there. There was, however, a usb key that I had thought I had lost. Huh. I pulled out my bag, which is huge. It can hold several manuscripts as well as all my usual junk.

This is usually a good thing. But now it was a cause of concern. I had to pull out everything from all the various compartments, and as I have seen Amelie and never clean my handbag out as a result, this was going to be icky. I discovered a hairbrush I didn’t know I had, several hundred tie backs for my hair, small notebooks full of notes about various stories, seven lipsticks, eight pens, and a scrap of paper covered with a list that makes no sense whatsoever:

1. Bus packed, change shift
2. Flooding out – posters?
3. Man arrives
4. Lunch with nice lady
5. Paranormal investigation. For 20 minutes.
6. 3.40. Photographer … walks past.
7. Change shift.

It’s like the Voynich Manuscript. I have no idea what I am referring to or when it was written. Clearly it’s about a journey, but where? And to whom?

No time to think about that now. I need these keys, and I need them by 7.30am tomorrow morning. So now I am on a quest, a mission, to hunt through the land and get these keys so I can unlock any and all doors I need. I go through the remainder of the bag – nothing. I go through my bedside locker – nothing. I go through my usual places –  nothing. I go through all the unusual places – still nothing.

We’re now reaching Sherlock Holmes territory, in that as all the likely places have been reviewed, it’s time to review the unlikely or impossible places.

That means checking out the hubby’s car. I am just ruling it out, I know they won’t be there. I get the keys and go out, unlocking the passenger door. I open up the glove compartment and what do you know?

The goddamn keys. Sitting there all innocent and untroubled and wondering what took me so long. How they got there is a mystery, as neither of us remember putting them there. Personally, I’m going with blaming the kid.

A plain brick wall is lit by a single light, and a mic stands ready.

Our hero appears, smiling too brightly. She taps the mic.

Hello, is this thing on?

Silence greets her.

Aha ha. Hi all, and thanks for coming out tonight. I’m on my holidays from work, and I thought I would make a special effort to talk to you all this week, seeing as so much time is going by so quickly.  There is no real news to tell you: my little bouy is getting tall and strong, and stole the show at his auntie’s wedding down in Kerry recently. And-

A hand goes up from the audience, and a voice calls out: “It’s spelt ‘boy’?”

Sorry?

“You said bouy? It’s spelt boy?”

I am typing this on my ipad, and it is somewhat difficult to edit. If you could just bare with me-

“Why?”

Sorry?

“Why on your ipad? Don’t you have not one, but two laptops?”

Yes, I do, but the main one is in the kitchen and I can’t use the other one at the moment, so I’m working on my ipad. So I think that I-

“Why can’t you use the other one?”

…

“Well?”

I have forgotten the password. Can we move on, now?

“Well, that remains to be seen.”

Oh do please shut up. Right, the rest of you, any more clever comments?! Or has the local element of care in the community exhausted it’s troop of helpful advisers?

The audience gives a collective gasp of horror. A disgrunted whispering starts.

I’m sorry! I am, I didn’t mean to be so rude! But I’ve had no sleep, and it’s taken twenty minutes to get this screen working, and he only sleeps for thirty at this hour, so the time is flowing away with each minute I spend trying to get this to work, and I just lose patience! If you could just-

The same hand goes up again. “Can I ask, did you have a nickname as a child?”

I don’t see what that has to do with anything.

“Humour us, please. What was your nickname as a child?”

[Our heroine gives an unclear mumble]

“Sorry, what was that?”

[Nothing else for it. She lifts her head and looks out into the audience.] The Hulk. Okay? My nickname as a small child was the Hulk. On account of my charming personality and excellent impulse control issues.

The audience titters. “And how is that working out for you?”

Oh shut up! Thank you ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a lovely audience!