Sunday, April 15, 2007

The Sunday Whinge

This is what happens when I foolishly leave my breakfast unattended for a nanosecond.

I am particularly tired and drained today and had hoped to have a quiet day behind the scenes. I really didn't feel up to being front of house for five hours straight. I looked forward to leaving it in the hands of my volunteer who, naturally, didn't turn up. I wouldn't mind, but she didn't turn up when she was last meant to be on duty either. She was most apologetic, mind you. Sent me a card to say sorry, explained that she has lost her diary, and then came to my office in person to sign up for her next shift. "Let me write these dates down for you," I said, "seeing as though you haven't got a diary." Why I thought a couple of post-it notes were going to remain in her possession any longer than her diary managed to I have no idea. I must have been in a wildly optimistic mood. Maybe it was when I ate that entire Easter egg in one go.

I hardly dare phone her now, to see what happened this time. Assuming she's fine and just forgot, she will be so mortified I'll wish I never mentioned it. If she isn't fine, then I'll feel mortified. I'm not quite sure what the ideal outcome to this scenario could be...Suggestions?

6 comments:

Boz said...

...set Mildred on her...

(I'm not letting this one go)

stitchwort said...

Sounds as good as needing to tell one of your staff they have BO.

Just one of the reasons to be an 'Indian' and not a 'Chief'.

Carmen said...

Um, tricky.

You could ring her and say that you had managed to mislay details of her next shift and could she let you know when it was? Then at least you'd both be mortified together!

Doris said...

Boz - I can't set Mildred on anyone until her bruises heal! (Otherwise it's just not a fair fight.)

Stitchwort - it's a tough job but someone's got to do it....eventually.

Carmen - nice idea, may try that!

Mym - ooh, harsh!

Boz said...

Oooo I like Mym's. 'You've let the house down.' Brilliant.

Anonymous said...

Did the country dancers, perchance, take home her diary? If not, did the jugglers borrow her post-it notes?

No?

Ok then...no alternative...set the Little Brown Calf, (gang of four), onto her...lets see her lick that lot!