Being a skittle lover and moving to a colder climate creates problems. I am a big fan of tasting the rainbow, but in Sydney's autumn, this rainbow is beginning to taste like broken teeth. This did not stop me making it through a packet of these sweet treats this morning, but it did cause quite a bit of pain, and sorrow. As someone who has previously inflicted this same pain on themselves when mistakenly using skittles as the mix in for their cold rock ice cream, I was devastated to find that it could occur due to weather and not just stupidity. On the bright side, this discovery means that I can now go on the hunt for a new winter indulgence. Challenge accepted!!
I embarked on a short shopping trip this morning to stock up on some odd little bits for a few classes, and this led me to the biggest Westfield in my area, which is currently under massive renovations. A mess of scaffolding and closed stores meant that instead of shopping, I ended up treasure hunting, with Rebel sport being my prize. I was looking for soft knee pads to use in my tricking classes, but could not for the life of me find them; only ones to wear for all forms of skating and scooting (which apparently is a legitimate verb.) I decided to ask someone for help, but children's games were obviously the theme of the day, as the shop assistants seemed to be playing hide and seek. Whenever I found them, they were helping somebody else, but two seconds later I would turn back and they would be gone. Half an hour later I finally clutched my knee pads as a smiling shop assistant slapped her name sticker on them to let the checkout people know how helpful she had been.
After spending a lot of time doing a lot of nothing, I went home to grab some lunch, and found that in portioning out my spaghetti leftovers last night, I had failed miserably. I had plenty of teddy bear noodles in my container, but the tiniest bit of mince to top it. I decided to cover it in tomato sauce, but the sauce decided it wanted to cover me instead, and squirted all over my jeans, the bench and the floor, with not a drop landing on the pasta. After wiping it up, I ate my pasta with a tiny bit of very carefully placed sauce, and debated what kind of an adult I am when I can't even control a sauce bottle.
This afternoon I had a job trial in a busy café, and I was absolutely terrified of dropping something, messing up an order, or just being ridiculously awkward. Luckily the boss just said that he wanted to see me be busy, and he didn't care if I had to wipe the same table 50 times to achieve this. I really hope that he didn't notice me actually wiping a table that many times before the trial was over.
As I delivered coffees to a table, (miraculously without spilling them,) a little girl in her pram pulled a funny face at me. I looked at her mother, who was gazing at me expectantly, and had a minor panic that it was going to be my lack of child interaction skills that would blow the job for me, and hurriedly pulled a face back. I then went to smile at the mother as I walked away, but she looked absolutely horrified, and so I tucked tail and ran, their empty water glasses in hand.
All in all, the only casualties for the day were my sauce stained jeans and a few of my teeth, so I guess that it wasn't a complete disaster.
Little Duck, out.
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