I hear you breathe an international sigh of relief to discover that this isn’t another whining post about how hormonal I am. This post is about nothing but how much of an idiot I am.
Over the last couple of days I seem to be constantly embarassing myself. A couple of incidents stand out above the rest as particularly bad. The first was on the weekend. Since we got that gas heater the size of a cow, we no longer need the portable one that we used to use at the last place, so I decided to sell it on TradeMe. The auction finished last week and the winner emailed me to find out when would be a good time to pick it up.
Her name seemed familiar to me. The more I thought about it the more I was convinced that I knew her. I could picture her face. She was even in one of my dreams. Creepy.
And then on Sunday morning she came over and it was her! The woman of my dreams! (Whoa! I never thought I’d hear myself say that!) I told her straight away that I knew her from somewhere. I told her my name and she said that it sounded kind of familiar to her as well. I asked her if she was ever a teacher. She wasn’t. She asked if I’d always lived in the area, how old I was, where I went to school etc. Nothing helped. I was going nuts.
After a few minutes of me grilling her I became aware that perhaps it was time to let the nice stranger leave before I made her nervous. I told her I’d email if it came to me later. She said please do. I suspect she was being polite.
I spent the rest of the day racking my brain. If something would come to me, I’d email her. Are you musical because I used to be in an orchestra? Do you play any sports because I used to compete in judo? That sort of thing.
It was later that day when I was driving home from indoor soccer that I remembered where I knew her from. Shortland Street. (It’s a long running NZ soap opera.) She’s a soap star. I’ve never met the woman in my life and now she thinks I’m a stalker with lots of weird hobbies. What a fool.
The second incident was this morning and while it isn’t as drawn out, the embarassment factor was pretty high as I jogged through the lobby of the gym after my workout, being obnoxious and teasing one of the especially hot personal trainers. I turned around and ran face first into the glass doors.
I think I may have left part of my nose on the door. I definitely left most of my pride.