Far OUT that was a freaking whirl

Yesterday was … quite something on the working-single-mum-juggling-act front.

I woke at 5am, panicking because I didn’t have a blog written and wanting something published by 7am for my dear friend Katherine as a tribute to our get-together on Sunday.

When I wake up in a panic there’s no going back, my heart starts racing and there’s NO WAY I can slow it down enough to doze off again.

The most ridiculous things set me off: should I have overhead cupboards in the kitchen or NOT?

“What should I make for dinner when friends come over in five weeks time?”

“How could I have said THAT to HER. I am soooooooo embarrassed.”

Etc, etc, etc

So I staggered out of bed, wrote the blog, frantically got ready for work and bolted to the office for a nose-firmly-pressed-to-the-grindstone morning before hoofing to Glass Brasserie at Sydney’s Hilton Hotel for Australia’s Wine List of the Year Awards.

It sounds glamorous, but it was a bit stressful because I was supposed to be social media-ing it and the Twitter app on my iphone stopped working. Bloody technology. Tweetdeck also failed me.

I muddled along, but didn’t get the chance to sip ANY of the sexy wines being served up. I DID manage to gobble a few delectable nibbles, including the tempura oysters and the kingfish sashimi with ginger, eschallot and Persian feta (but decided taking photographs of the winners while stuffing Glass mini burgers in my mouth might be tricky).

I am a highly accomplished free nibbles scoffer. I’m very skilled at scouting the most fruitful spot in the room to score, plus all those childhood afternoons I spent perfecting my Twister game come in very handy when swivelling through to crowd to grab the last morsel on a platter.

But I was handicapped yesterday by having to constantly check the time in an anxious fashion every five seconds because, while I’m normally child-free on Mondays, I’d agreed to have the kids so my ex could go and see The Cure live in concert.

I mean, when your ex scores a last-minute ticket to The Cure, it would be churlish to refuse to be his maiden in shining armour.

The ex graciously offered to feed me his latest culinary masterpiece when I dashed through his door to collect the kids: some sort of curry roasted chicken and cauliflower and potatoes that I expect involved him hand-grinding the spices before lovingly rubbing them all over everything because that’s the gourmet way he rolls on Monday nights these days.

I have to grudgingly admit it was quite delicious.

He also packed the kids’ school lunches for me because I was too flat out dashing to Newie on Sunday to do mundane stuff like grocery shopping. Gawd knows what I’m going to feed the kids when they wake ravenous in five minutes time and demand sustenance.

After stuffing down my ex’s latest culinary masterpiece, I grabbed the eldest, while my ex (again graciously) offered to drop the youngest at gymnastics while I dashed home to continue my social media efforts for Australia’s Wine List of the Year Awards.

Then I bolted over to my lovely neighbour’s house because I’d promised to pop over and be plied with a glass of delicious riesling before I collected the youngest from gymnastics.

Poor me. That was a tough one …

When the youngest emerged from gymnastics she looked like she’d come down with some terrible disease from lying on the mats. Eczema alert!

So I threw her in an oatmeal bath while I fed the dogs and attempted to de-stress for a few moments in front of Masterchef. She was quite good natured as I slathered her entire red-raw body with ointment after the bath and kissed her goodnight.

Meanwhile, I was pretty punch drunk with exhaustion.

Anyways … Australia’s Wine List of the Year awards looked like a pretty cool event if you were there to play, not work. And that Luke Mangan tempura oyster WAS bloody good.

You know, I really shouldn’t complain. I had a freaking awesome, if over-scheduled, life.

Here are some pics from the arvo … OK, now that I review the photographic evidence, it would appear it wasn’t all work, I had a gin and tonic with my workmate Kathy …

I also found it VERY entertaining when I was introduced to a magazine journalist and said I thought I recognised her from my days walking the halls of ACP Magazines and she replied: “You might just think you do because you’ve seen a photograph of me in the magazine … it happens to me ALL the time …”

And I thought to myself erm, nooooo, that’s definitely not it … 

Hilare.

(PS The final photograph is of the winner, fermentAsian restaurant)

Song of the day: Donna Summer “She works hard for the money”

 

 

 

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