Have a big deadline in a few days, and technology is not going my way. Nothing is going my way.
I’m fighting with coding and stuff I really have no idea about, and, really, probably shouldn’t be touching. Lucky I wasn’t trying my hand at brain surgery, or things could have gone a little pear shaped for all involved.
Worse, I had received, pre-8am, a call from another school mum, reminding me that her son was being dropped over at 1pm. Remember?
No, I bloody forgot. Again. But I smiled politely, nodded my head in agreeance of recalling our agreement and then realised I was on the phone. So I did all that aloud.
Battled some more, did what I could do, when the doorbell rang. School dad dropping school friend off.
“How’s things?” he enquired.
Not a good time to ask, so I went on a ramble about bloody computers and the coding not working for me and trying to work out another way to meet this deadline.
“Oh. Do you want me to have a look at it for you? Coding is part of what I do.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I was more than happy to have his son for the next four hours.
It was working!
