Today is possibly a new world record for my utter incompetence at just generally existing in the world.
I have been blonde for a total of 30 hours and so far, let me tell you, if anything, it’s LESS fun.
This morning, while rushing around the house to get to the airport for the 7am flight to Sydney that work booked for me 5 weeks ago, I looked down at the print out of my booking confirmation and saw the word “Wednesday” on it. Today being Thursday, I immediately choked up and said to James “oh…. no…. My flight was for YESTERDAY! I’ve missed it. I’ve totally stuffed up….”
Never being one to waste time in a crisis, I immediately leapt into action by jumping onto the Virgin website and booking myself onto the same flight I (thought) I was supposed to be on. There was no way I wasn’t leaving this morning; it would ruin everything Harmony and I had planned for the weekend and it just wasn’t an option.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to pack up my stuff, close my bag and get out of the house so as not to miss the flight I had only JUST confirmed online (mere seconds ago) and, as if by magic, James looks down at the flight confirmation page sitting on the table and says quietly, “babe, these dates are in August.”
….I had printed out the wrong confirmation and was looking at the details for an entirely different trip from last month. I had literally just booked and paid for a second seat on the exact same plane that I was already booked on and had been for weeks. And then a part of me died. A small, but significant part called “self-respect.”
While in the car, I called the travel agent who took care my company’s bookings to explain the situation and see if there was anything they could do. After searching for my booking in their system for 5 minutes and not being able to locate it, I finally realised it was under my maiden name and told them to try that. This time, they found it – “Mrs Haining, you’re already booked on a flight this morning.”
“Yes, thank you ‘DEB.’ I do realise that’s the situation we’re in here. Is there anything you can do?”
“…. No. Why did you do this?”
“I wish I knew Deb; I wish I knew.”
At the airport, the desk couldn’t help me either, but gave me a number to call immediately as it needed to be “handled” before the flight time in 30 minutes. So, I am rushing around the airport while trying to get onto an actual human on the phone (I got through to someone on the second try after just not pressing any of the prompt buttons. Had they given the option “If you’re an absolute dick head, press 3,” I would have made that selection on my pin pad).
After holding for forever (5 minutes), they agreed to refund the ticket I’d booked, minus the cancellation fee, into my frequent flyer travel bank. They could not, however, refund the “optional insurance” that I’d apparently selected in my haste to check-out. Probably best I’m insured anyway, to be honest.
As I hung up the phone, I threw my not-quite-empty coffee cup into the trash about a foot away from me, missed (obviously) and spilt milk all over the bin and onto the surrounding floor. Then, I looked up to find that a cleaner was walking past and had witnessed this proud moment. I looked into her eyes, she looked into mine. I bent down and picked up the cup, asked her for a cloth, apologised profusely. She didn’t have a cloth, so she pulled the mop out of her bucket and cleaned up after me with that instead. I’m sure we could have been great friends under other circumstances.
It is now 6:20am… what will the rest of this day bring ?