Historically, I have always got dates and times wrong.
I could blame it on being a busy mum but I’m afraid it started long before having Boo.
The worst event happened when I bought my husband and I tickets to see Take That. We weren’t married then and long before Boo. It was just before Christmas and I was so excited.
Even G was excited-he’d never been to a concert before.
So we turned up on the allocated Friday at the arena in Manchester and I proudly produced my tickets at the door.
The man looked at the for ages. Even got his torch out and looked even more closely.
“This is the wrong Friday,” he said. In that split second, I giggled to myself inside. Silly girl I thought. It must be next week.
IT WAS LAST WEEK!
I am not ashamed to admit I cried. From embarrassment, shame, guilt that I’d spent all that money for noting and poor G wouldn’t get to see his concert after all.
Thankfully G saw the funny side. He still asked me to marry him some years later but he vowed that from that day, he would be in charge of tickets.
Unfortunately he doesn’t take control of doctor and hospital appointments.
I changed doctors when we moved to the farm and there have been at least five occasions when I’ve turned up and they’ve said “your appointment is tomorrow/was yesterday/an hour ago.”
Then there was the time I took our library books back only to be landed with a £16 fine for late-return of books.
The only way I can explain it is that my brain works a lot faster than my mouth and body and sometimes I glance at something once, quite quickly, make up a date or time in my head and believe it. I would even go so far to think I may be dyslexic with numbers-I am a drama queen!
After the library book incident, I write everything on the calendar and in my diary but sometimes even that is not enough.
Last week I had a hospital appointment for Boo. She wasn’t invited and I had to go for an hour one week and then an hour the week after.
It was near Tesco in Warrington and there are always road-works. The calendar and my diary said the appointment was 2.15pm so, because of traffic, I left at 1pm so I would get there in plenty of time.
I arrived at 1.30pm and, pleased with myself for being 45 minutes early, I rewarded my self with a 40 minute browse around the supermarket, getting Boo some Christmas pyjamas and generally enjoying myself as it is a very rare occurrence that I get to enter a shop sans Boo in the supermarket trolley demanding ‘choc’ or ‘dum’ (dummy).
I then reported to reception at the clinic and waited patently. I did think it was weird that there were no other people in the waiting room as it was supposed to be a group appointment and, by 2.30 I looked at the letter I had put in my bag.
It said 1.15-2.15pm. In my usual quick glance I just looked at the 2.15pm.
When the practitioner came out and I explained, I began by giggling but when she said I had missed too much that week and couldn’t come on the course the following week and would have to re-book the double session for after Christmas, I burst into tears.
When it stops me from seeing Take That or missing a blood test it is funny.
When it affects Boo it isn’t.
I haven’t decided who to address my problem. I’m not sure they run courses on how to read appointment letter possible.
I am still writing appointments on calendars and my diary but I am asking other people to check the dates and times too.
Have you ever missed or been late for something important? It would be lovely if someone could make me feel better.