I rushed into the groomers with Sally, our dog, late and bothered. Apologising and frantically trying to control the Beastie while filling in, one-handed, the contact sheet for new clients. The appointment was near to being cancelled as I was over half an hour late, I was saved by there being a written error in my contact details, taken over the phone when the appointment was made a week ago.
Please forgive me, “I’m a carer” was a circling thought inside my head, urging me to explain my tardiness. I had to bite my tongue, clench my jaw. I concentrated on pushing my need to explain away. I know I can’t use my daily caring schedule as an excuse, I can’t use it to explain my rush and I can’t use it to excuse myself from life, everyday responsibilities and time management.
As I restrained Sally I noticed a large chocolate cheesecake smudge on my white shirt from the evening before. I had grabbed yesterdays outfit in haste and regretting my choice, looking at the poo like smear, tucked my forearm to my waist to hide the suspicious mark. I looked like a solider with my arms now rigid by my sides, I was biting my tongue so I didn’t blurt out my justification story of my morning and the reasons for my lateness, all the while with the hound twisting like Houdini to escape her lead.
I realise that trying to manage a complex, activity filled day without falling into the “I’m a carer” blurt when running late is challenging especially while awkwardly hiding questionable brown smears on yesterdays white blouse, biting my tongue and making eyes like saucers as the groomer explains a poodle cut for the Beastie. All this as I’m trussed up around the knees in the leash, like a fly in a spider’s web.
My list of good things to do at this point:
- Laugh, it’s a doggy hair cut
- Grab a large coffee
- Keep calm, deep breathe, walk tall and smile 🙂
- Enjoy the 5 hours of dog free time. You can leave the cheese/bread/cookies out till the Beastie returns.