First World Trauma

Warning: This post contains material that may be traumatic to...anyone.

I very nearly suffered a panic attack last week.

I was running late and the twins were being extra  evil  mischievious, and quite frankly I just needed to get out of the house.

So I threw together a bag of essentials, and off we went to the shopping centre.

I ran the gauntlet of strategically placed money-sappers (coin operated kiddy rides).

$2 for 2 minutes is up there with phone sex rates.

I found a trolley to plonk the twins in that didn’t have a seat at the front, which meant I didn’t have to spend the entire time refereeing who got the seat, or explain why neither got the seat in the interest of fairness.

Of course, it was a dodgy older trolley, so I pushed it like a drunken hunchback of Notre Dame in order to attempt to accurately steer the possessed bloody thing.

I went to one food outlet and sourced lunch for one twin.

I went to another food outlet at the other extremity of the shopping centre to source lunch for the other twin.

Then we went to the Myer Café where the twins could play and I could sip my flat white while trying to bring my heart rate down by thinking happy thoughts.

Serenity Now!

Espresso IV : I so need to get me one of these.

And that’s when it happened.

As I fished around in the Hi 5 backpack, I couldn’t find my mobile phone.

WTF?!

Panic quickly set in.  How was I going to check Twitter and Facebook and emails?  Twitter and Facebook and Emails, oh my!

I’d been in such a mad rush to leave the house, I’d forgotten to toss my mobile phone in the backpack.

At this point I seriously considered packing the twins up and going home to get it, before turning around and coming straight back.

Seriously.

But then I realised that I was just being ridiculous, and nothing was so earth shattering that it couldn’t wait an hour or so until I got home.

I don’t wear a watch – because I normally rely on my MOBILE PHONE for the time.

I must’ve looked like an agitated junkie, jonesing for a fix, as I fidgeted and squirmed in my seat, trying to make eye contact with someone so I could ask the time.

I have never felt so isolated and cut off from all communication….as when I was sitting in the middle of a crowded café, in a crowded shopping centre, in the middle of suburbia.

I am pathetic.

I lasted no more than 30 minutes before I grabbed the twins and hightailed it out of there.

I am mega pathetic.

Let's never be apart again, okay?

By the way, it’s a good thing I did rush home – because I missed a crucial email.

A long lost, unknown relative in a foreign land, with no genetic linkage to yours truly, had passed away.  He/She had left their worldly goods to me.  I had only 24hrs to respond with all of my banking and personal details to claim my €25,000,000 inheritance.

Phew, lucky I did rush home, right!?