I’ve had a pretty average month to be honest, and so has Hazel. I’m not talking average as in my cat got run over, my house burned down, and I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I’m talking average as in, every little annoying thing that can go wrong, has gone wrong. I thought it was just me battling away as usual, but then I heard on the radio something about Mercury being in Retrograde, so I Googled it up, and suddenly it all made sense.
Now, some people don’t do hocus pocus, but I enjoy a wee bit of weirdness in my life. While I don’t read my horoscopes on a daily, weekly or even monthly basis, I do fit the profile of a Cancerian almost perfectly, and I’m OK with that. Now before you go “this Hazel, she be cra’y”, and unfriend me on Facebook, unfollow me on Instagram, and uninvite me to your birthday dinner, just read on a bit…
According to this very informative website, Mercury in Retrograde happens three or four times a year, and is when the planet Mercury appears to be moving backwards in the sky. Because the Earth is moving faster than Mercury during these times, it’s an optical illusion, like when you pass a slow moving vehicle, and it starts to look like it’s going backwards. That happens to me at the lights all the time, but usually the other vehicle is stationary, and I’ve forgotten that I’m driving mum’s auto, and it’s in drive and my foot isn’t on the brake.
So basically what happens, is shit goes wrong, for no real reason, and in hindsight there has been a lot of shit go wrong for no reason. My car failed it’s Warrant of Fitness, no real surprises there, given her age, and the fact that I drive her like she’s a Subaru WRX STI and I’m in the deciding round of the FIR World Rally Championship. So she was out of action for a couple of weeks, and I was driving Debs’ red wagon, which, as previously mentioned, almost resulted in a rolling start nose to tail at each and every red light.
I have had a super shit month at work. Not at my Hazel’s House job, but at my real job – the one I get paid for. Without going into too much incriminating detail, resulting in yet another unofficial verbal “warning” as I’m rushing out the door, late for something not work related, there have been some massive communication issues, meaning that I arrive at work feeling stressed and anxious, and I leave work feeling homicidal and in desperate need of a wine, or five.
Almost every time I’ve got in to, or out of a vehicle, I’ve either had the door close on my leg, usually on my shin, or hit the flash as eff car beside me. I don’t recall leaving the house during this time without forgetting my keys, my phone, my mind, or all three. I have been waylaid before every appointment, meeting, or general scheduled catch up, and I have been embarrassingly late to work, even on the days when I got up at 6am in an attempt to be on time! How does this happen?
On more than one occasion I forgot one gym shoe, or a sock, or a suitable method of restraining my bust while doing burpies and tuck jumps. I made several special trips to a supermarket that’s not on my way to anywhere, in order to purchase my favourite wine, only to find them out of stock on four occasions. I always thought it a touch strange to see people at the supermarket at 6pm purchasing a solitary bottle of wine, until I joined their fraternity: Wino’s Unite!
My computer at work stopped working – for the second time this year, so I played hot desk for a week, and then ended up with a new hard drive, which meant re-saving all my settings and shortcuts, and trying to locate important email addresses for messages such as “Hi mum, what’s for dinner tonight?”. Every time I have gone to use my iPad it’s been flat, so I’ve charged the sucker up, only for it to be flat again the next time I use it. Same goes for my iPod, it’s like they’re having some sort of Apple only party, and getting high on lithium without me.
I found out the hard way, at least three times, that when I’m wearing heels, those stupid little one way gates at the supermarket smash me in the patella with enough force to cause permanent damage. More than once, I convinced myself that I had “heaps” of fuel to get me from A to B, only to have that ominous orange light glaring at me midway through my journey.
I pulled in to the servo in the boyfie’s vehicle, and of course the petrol cap was on the opposite side to the bowser, and instead of backing the vehicle out and pulling up on the other side (ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat), I hung my whole body weight on the nozzle so it would reach, resulting in a slight dent in the roof. I filled that puppy to the brim with 96, only to be told by the attendant that the fuel card is authorised to purchase 91 or diesel, but not 96, which put me in that awkward position where you hand over your EFTPOS card and pray to the God of internet banking that your card doesn’t decline in front of congregation of impatient individuals queued up at Z.
I have had at least two customers email me within 12 hours of their order being placed, and ask in an accusatory tone (most things sound accusatory in an email) when they can expect to receive the items they’ve recently purchased. I’ve politely directed them to the Delivery and Dispatch page on the Hazel’s House website, that states that dispatch will happen on the first or second working day following the receipt of payment, and that the parcel will be received up to three working days after dispatch.
Imagine my disbelief when the response to this reply, in all cases was: “Yes, I’ve read that, and that’s why I’m wondering why I haven’t received it”. Clearly, only when Mercury is in Retrograde, could two working days, plus three working days, equate to 12 hours.
While Mercury has been in Retrograde, I managed to burn the bastardised version of paella that I was making for myself and seven guests, and ruin Hannah’s pot on it’s maiden voyage across the cook top. All this happened in the time it took for me to refill my wine glass and weigh in on the debate about whether or not to immunise your children, stemming from the recent measles outbreak in our region.
Also during this period of Retrograde, I have been accused of editing the images on the Hazel’s House website so as to deliberately mislead Hazel’s customers, I have put my stiletto heel through the deck while carrying a roll of carpet, and almost every in stock order that I have placed has arrived and I’ve thought “why the eff did I order this, this isn’t going to sell!”
Even though I would stand up in a court of law and swear that I checked and re-checked stock quantities after the Women’s Lifestyle Expo, the website still managed to sell things to customers that I didn’t have in stock. I have sent the wrong customers the wrong items and the right customers the wrong sizes. I have lost orders underneath the passenger seat of my car, and NZ Post has lost more orders than I could ever imagine possible.
I’m also going to blame Mercury being in Retrograde for the unfortunate incident where I packed what I thought was a suitable office outfit, only to put it on the next morning and realise that the pants were too tight, and the shirt was too short, resulting in the whole office having an uninterrupted view of my ass crack all day. Coincidentally that was the day that I had zero self control when it came to the tray of Mamas Donuts on my desk, the combined effect of me stuffing my face with sugary deliciousness, with my accountant’s crack teetering above my Swiss ball, just screamed professionalism. Is it any wonder that certain people find it appropriate to comment on my incompetence and lack of qualifications, when I resemble Homer Simpson in a wig. Damn you Mercury!
I went away for a weekend, and I forgot socks. No biggy right? I forgot my socks. I also forgot body lotion, dry shampoo, my tangle teezer, face wash and eye make up remover. Because Hazel has pushed me to the precipice of bankruptcy, I refused to replenish my stock of toiletries, and instead spent the weekend posing as a scaly amphibian with smelly feet, blocked pores, panda eyes, and greasy, tangled hair – such a catch!
All of this has given me cause to believe that the Universe hates me, and that I should just quit while I’m ahead. Only I’m not ahead, I’m so far behind that I’ve lost sight of why I started, and the only good thing to come out of my decision to start an online clothing store, is that despite my recent weight gain of 10% of my original body weight, I haven’t needed to go shopping for a new wardrobe, I’ve just helped myself to Hazel’s.
However, that being said, now it makes complete sense as to why lately life has felt like an endless, unplanned trip up Shit Creek without a paddle or adequate supplies. The good news: Mercury sorts itself out on or around the 2nd of July and things will go back to normal. Apparently we can resume our daily lives, without traffic and travel delays, without miscommunication and reading too much into things, without postage and shipping issues, and without signing contracts that we didn’t mean to sign. Hallelujah!