The last straw - Up to my hubs in mud !!

I'm so FED UP. If I'd have known I'd spend the end of the day up to my elbows in mud I wouldn't have gone out. haha

I was dropped back to my car at 5pm tonight, at the time, feeling pleased. I'd faced the music this morning in my first lecture about uncomplete homework. Since returning to College my son's been a nightmare. He won't go to sleep until late, he's whingy, demanding, needy and I'm absolutely worn out with it all. He's not in the wrong - he's only got one parent - he's entitled to say 'Hey Mum, I'm kinda priority here'. Yet I feel stretched so energetically thin and torn.  I physically cannot do everything I have to do at the moment. I can't get my homework finished because of my son's behaviour, I'm not a good Mum at the moment because I'm desperately trying to multi-task when he should be getting my attention, his friends at school are ahead of him because their parents are able to dedicate real time to them. I couldn't feel worse. 

When considering my son's Father as a parent, 'waste of space' comes to mind.  Yet if you met him, you'd like him more than me. He's able to get on with anyone, he works with young vulnerable teenagers who have gone off the rails, he's cool, women fall at his feet, he's tough - not many people who would mess with him and he's pulling his own life together after a couple of bad years of bad luck. BUT, as a parent he's useless, he doesn't see his son, he doesn't contribute to his son's upbringing in any way, shape or form and I feel so sad for my son, deep inside. 

Anyway, back to the day, after two really interesting lectures (on celebrity culture/Obama and interviewing techniques) a friend from the course and I popped to the Imperial for lunch. The Imperial is one of those weird pubs without music, but it sells cheap beer from 9am every morning and it's always packed. There were no parking spaces so, I plonked my car on a verge and went for lunch. 

During lunch we planned to visit Phonic FM. They were looking for people interested in helping provide voice packages. I've emailed a woman called Jenna and a guy called Aaron twice to see if they wanted any free help, but it's not what your offering it's who you know. A guy on our course is friendly with the Chairman through football and he gave us the right name to contact. We went along and he was great - really helpful. Then came the first lesson of the day, he said, "Shame you didn't come along yesterday we needed someone to interview Kate Aidie". Kate Adie, the Kate Adie, KATE ADIE - just one of the reasons I even wanted to be a journalist was in WH Smith yesterday and I could have been the one interviewing her!! If I'd followed up my emails sooner I could have been talking to and interviewing one of my heroines. Oh well, let that be a lesson, I'm gutted. 

Anyway, the day wasn't all lost we'd made a good contact with Phonic FM and made ourselves known to them. I'd handed in two pieces of work to College on time, so I went back to the car to lick my wounds. 

I get into the car, figure the grass is a bit wet, better reverse out slowly, but what I hadn't banked on was that the whole lawn area's been re-turfed in the last couple of days and my car had sunk.  Anyone with half a brain-cell would have noticed this before 5pm on a dark autumnal night. 

PANICK, no DON'T PANICK... DANG! Lots of beefy, rugby playeresque guys came down the road - phew saved... NO! I'm not a size zero blonde and the damsel in distress look didn't work. Not even one offer of help. To be fair I probably look more like I should be in the scrum, not cheerleading by their side. I could probably bench press more than some of them anyway, but that's just not the point. I'm so independent sometimes and was determined to get myself out of the mud. Finding rocks/sticks I stuffed them by the front-wheels to try to get out. Even though it was front wheel drive, the hill was just too steep I'd get within inches of the road like a politician it would spin spin spin. 

Hopeless, no-one to call, got to get back for my son within the hour, I know nothing about cars or getting them out of the mud and the more I try to get out, the more the stupid thing buried itself like a mad mole on vodka, Red Bull. 

Anyhow, long story short I have parents who are silent hero's.  Dad left work, brought rope and he and I pulled me and the car out of the mud. Mum picked up my son. So, apart from being covered head to toe in mud ha, as always, it was alright in the end. :)