I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles

In the spirit of a "Getting to know more about you" type post, I am inspired today to tell you a funny, but embarrassing story about myself.   I would love it if you would share one of your stories in the comments.  So here goes.

When I was 17 I was working for a small law firm.  Whilst I was a simple office junior, often crawling around in cellars and attics for files or making a coffee for everyone in the building; working in a office at 17 for me felt amazing.

You did of course have to dress smartly for this position and as a result, I decided that a new pair of shoes was in order (some things never change).  They were a tiny bit too small and needed stretching so I asked for some advice of what to do.  

This was before Google.  Before Youtube videos that explain how to do everything.

I was told, from someone who used it in his Doc Martins, that washing up liquid around the edge you wanted to stretch would do the job perfectly.  You simply wore the shoes as normal and the leather would stretch to fit your foot.

I can see how this works and indeed it did.  I could feel the leather stretching slightly as I walked.  But then.  You know what is coming don't you.  It started to rain.

I was walking from the bus station to my office which was a 10 minute walk.  The rain began to pour and at first, I did not even connect the dots in relation to the washing up liquid lining both my shoes.  I simply hurried on to my office to get out of the wet.

Then I received the first double take by someone passing me by.  Then another.  Both seems to be looking at my feet.  I looked down and to my horror, bubbles were pouring, and I meaning POURING out of both of my shoes.  Picture what a bottle of coke does if you shook it and then opened and you would get a fairly accurate representation.

I quickly swept away the bubbles and rubbed at my shoes in vain to try and get rid of the washing up liquid which by now had rubbed off on to my tights too.

I spent the next ten minutes of the walk having to stop every few metres to wipe the bubbles away.  I cannot tell you how many people stopped and stared at me.  Either in disbelief or just laughing at me.  I was utterly mortified.

One shopkeeper who saw me that morning proceeded to call me "Bubbles" for the next year.  He would without fail ask me what my feet were growing this morning.

Looking back now I laugh so much about what happened.  I more than likely used far, far too much washing up liquid and would definately not have looked at the weather forecast.

We live and learn!

Catching Yourself

I feel like I have just woken up.  Not from sleep, but a state of mind.  

Have you ever been in a rut without realising it or a downward spiral that you did not know you were on?  This has been me for the past few months.  Except that I did not know, until I was sat in the dentist's chair last Thursday.

Now the dentist's chair is of course not the normal place for self reflection and realization.  But there I was, petrified and shaking as usual when I happened to look down at my legs. They were hairy.  I'm not talking about forgot to shave for a couple of days hairy, I'm talking not shaved for weeks and weeks hairy.

(By the by, nothing wrong whatsoever whether you choose to shave or not; it's just my own personal preference for myself).

I had no idea whatsoever why I had hairy legs. I was so confused.  It was quite a good distraction from what was going on in my mouth to be honest, as I racked my brains for an answer as to how I could have forgotten to shave for so many weeks.  I wear a dress every single day.  How did I not notice for all this time?

When I got home, I looked in the mirror.  Again, I felt like I was looking at myself properly for the first time in months.  My makeup looked like a five year old had put it on and my hair?  It looked like it had not had anything but my fingers running through it since I washed it.  Being honest, I could not even remember last time I brushed it.

I felt and looked like an old house that was previously well kept but was now in a state of disrepair. The only way I can describe it is that I felt that my mind and who I am had a vacation away from myself, but not bothered to tell me.  Like I had just been on autopilot for a while. Does this make sense to anyone else or just me?

Looking back over the past few months, I see nothing that would have triggered this apathy.  Because that is what this was.  It was not laziness or a change in my routine.  The thoughts of shaving my legs, brushing my hair; applying my make up; did not ever factor or occur to me.

I have still been going to work, having a normal home life; writing blog posts but I really do think that the essence of what is me disappeared for a while.  Hell, I did not even blog about the debacle of the UK referendum or the catastrophic screw up that is Donald Trump.

I feel like I have been on safe mode, like you do with your computer.  My screen flashed back on in the dentist chair.  Maybe I needed a jolt.  Something to get part of me going again that I did not realise was not working anymore.  I don't know.

What I do know that I feel more alive than I have for the past few months, more alert.  More ready to make plans, do things; live my life and plan for it.  My legs are returned to their shaved selves.  My hair has been brushed.

I do not know where I went, but I am glad that I am back.