How To Tell In One Night That You’re Exhausted After Your First Month Of Working Full-Time And Are Definitely Ready For The Five-Day Long Weekend:
1. Whilst driving to gospel rehearsal, which is in the same location you’ve been driving to weekly for the past few months, you make a wrong turn and end up in a parking lot far away from your aimed-for building. Side note: the car behind beeps you when you make the wrong turn, as if it’s somehow appointed itself your guilty driving conscience.
Oh my dear holy bucket, I had no idea this photo had been taken or existed until it showed up on Facebook. There is nothing scarier than the sudden onslaught of your face greeting you from the depths of the Internet.
Photo courtesy of Brent Goldspring and Strange Weather Gospel Choir
2. Whilst driving to drinks after gospel rehearsal, which is also in the same location you’ve been driving to weekly for the past few months, you make a wrong turn and end up searching for the restaurant on the wrong street. Side note: no one beeps you this time, but you do get tail-gated. What the what?
3. At the restaurant (once you’ve found it), you order a skim cappuccino instead of a soy cappuccino. Never in your life have you ordered a skim cappuccino, so you’re rather surprised that your mouth even knows how to form the words.
4. After ordering your not-soy skim cappuccino, you decide to go to the bathroom. The same bathroom you’ve been popping into weekly for the past few months.
Moment of clarification: you are a lady. You have all the requisite lady parts.
YOU WALK INTO THE MEN’S BATHROOM.
As soon as you cross the threshold, a horrible smell assails you. However, you don’t immediately work out what’s wrong. The colour of the bathroom tiles seem a bit odd, yes, and the stench is increasingly overwhelming, but your mind is off with the cow juice fairies and you can’t think straight.
Then you see the urinals.
I swear, no lady with the requisite lady parts has ever moved her little legs out of a bathroom so quickly before. I can only hope that no one in the busy bar area directly outside the lavatories saw me burst through the men’s door with a cackling-giggle-shriek before disappearing into the women’s bathroom two metres down.
I’m pretty sure I was totally inconspicuous.
5. After drinking half of your not-soy skim cappuccino and finally figuring out why it tastes so weird (cow juice!), promise one of the head gospel honchos that, in your newly-appointed role of gospel scribe, you will create a limerick every week detailing the events of the rehearsal.
6. Drive home, and spend five minutes in the garage with the car door open and your body half-hanging out, so you can quadruple-check that no huntsman or red-back spiders are in the vicinity.
7. Walk in the door at 10pm and proceed to eat two bowls of oatmeal, a pear, a slice of toast with vegemite, three handfuls of Sultana Bran Crunch, and five squares of Lindt chocolate.
8. At 11pm, thanks to the brilliant Brent whose photos are the only quality specimens on this post, order a Snuggie online.
Je ne regrette rien.