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Today I had a really bad day, and I don’t just mean a few things got under my skin, I mean I had a really bloody awful day, I mean I had one of those days that make you question weather life itself is merely some cosmic plot intent on humiliating you to a point of destruction.

It all started out really well… I crawled out of bed, showered, breakfasted and all that stuff, then I got a call from my wife who is interstate on business.

She was in a bit of a panic, she had just discovered her Amex payment was due, and because it included much of our overseas trip expenses it would incur hefty penalties if not payed in time. Being a caring and helpful husband, I willingly (that’s a fib) assured her I would willingly forgo my morning painting schedule to assist her, by driving the 20km to the local Amex office.

Overhearing my rare offer of generosity, my son presented me with a shoe box and requested that I return a newly acquired pair of sneakers for a refund.

Now all this seems innocent enough right? I’m one of those lucky individuals that work from home… In the mornings I paint until about lunch time, then in the afternoon I sketch and mess around with experimental stuff for my next painting, later, I do all my internet and marketing stuff. It’s not a fixed schedule, some days I’m not in the mood to paint(yes, we artists are a fickle lot), so it’s all a bit loose and spontaneous, that’s how I like, it works for me… well that is until someone comes along and messes it all up.

Obviously, today was not going to fit into my normal schedule, annoying, but shit really does happen, and that’s O.K.

So, I drove my son to school, well that’s not quite true, he’s learning to drive at the moment, so, he drove me, and as any parent will tell you, the early stages of being driven by your child, is the nearest thing to a religious experience many of us ever have.

But we made it with a minimum of yelling and screaming. What sort of demented soul, ever thought that combining the age of driving with the onset of puberty, might be a good idea?

Then I set off for the trek across the city to perform my generous tasks. After a long wait in a line at the Amex office, I was informed by the less than enthusiastic teller that I would require proof of identity to make the payment. This was followed by a similar rejection from the “Customer Service” lady at the shoe shop, who had obviously been trained in the same “enthusiasm” class as the Amex lady.

So, one and a half hours later, after driving home to obtain the details, I drove again into the shopping center to complete my generous tasks.

That was when I discovered that I was invisible. That is the only way I can explain why, the car exiting their car park, drove into me.

Now, I’m normally a fairly sensitive person, I care about people, but a hysterical woman, more worried about her car than her children, screaming, crying, and accusing me of sneaking up on her, did test my people skills a little more than I would have liked.

Finally, I returned home, to make the obligatory phone calls to insurance companies etc.

After a cigarette (yes, I do have some vices) and a cup of coffee, I decided to splash a little paint on the portrait I am currently wrestling with. Now, to those of you familiar with the technicalities of portrait painting, you will sympathize with the difficulties of remixing paint to match skin tones. It’s a near impossible task and requires a whole lot of concentration and total attention.

So, the interruption of two very persistent, fresh faced young gentlemen offering to save my soul was less than welcome. I finally extricated myself from their clutches by explaining that “everlasting life” was not high on my agenda today and returned to my color mixing.

Then, just as I dabbed my newly mixed paint around the problem area of an eye that appeared to suffering an intolerable attack of palsy, the phone rang, and joy upon joy, a nice gentleman from (I’m guessing Mumbai) informed me that I had been chosen to receive a once in a lifetime opportunity to receive some huge discount on all my future telephone calls. I explained to him that… Well I think, from what I can remember I shouted some very unkind things that questioned his manhood and legitimacy.

I returned to the painting, dabbed and dabbled, then realized that today might not be a good day to attempt the delicate work, required to finish this painting.

So, I put the freshly mixed paint in a container in the fridge and recalcitrantly plonked myself in front of the TV in an attempt to wash the days challenges from my brain.

It was then I discovered how much I hate “Time Management Gurus”, Inadvertently, I tuned into a shopping channel, to be confronted by Mr. smooth talking success. He assured me, that all I had to do was purchase his set of 15 DVD’s and genuine leather bound diary, to learn the secrets that were causing me to lose time and fail to meet my lifelong objectives.

Just think, for just several mortgage payments, I would be in possession of all the skills and unique secrets that would have avoided rude impersonal service, a traffic accident, the interruptions of religious zealots and foreign telemarketers and I would instantly be on my personal road to a Rolls Royce, big yacht, luxurious mansion and personal fulfillment, just like him and his merry band of insincere testifiers.

That’s great, by the way, as I have been sitting here, pouring my personal bile onto the keyboard, the dog has escaped and is digging in the sand of our canal where he gets covered in sand flies, which only the vet cat remove, and the cleaners, in a very rare attack of enthusiasm, have thrown out the container of freshly and carefully mixed skin tone I had stored in the refrigerator.

I think I will go to bed right now, I’m going to call this day quits, before the sky falls or the time management guru convinces me to re-mortgage the house to buy his genuine leather diary, unique priority setting matrix, DVD’s and 101 bonus, miscellaneous secrets to success.

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