What a Palaver

I love that word. Palaver. I love it almost as much as I love Brouhaha. And Guddle. Ah, the joys of having a Scottish great-grandmother and and an Irish boss. I just chuck all those words about with wild abandon and don't really care if anyone knows what I'm on about!

But anyway, today's palaver (which basically means fuss and carry-on) came about because I needed to have some more blood tests done. They're a bit specialised so I couldn't have them at the local pathology lab all of seven minutes away from home so I dropped the kids at school and drove the 30 minutes to the lab that could do them. Then I waited 40 minutes. Then they came out and told me that, actually, two of the tests the doctor wanted done couldn't be done there. Apparently they were extra special tests and they could only be done at the lab's head office. In the city.

So then came another 30 minute drive followed by several laps of the block as I attempted to find parking. Luckily I only had to wait about 10 minutes and then the nice lab lady (she was very nice, really) took many, many vials of my blood. And then I drove another hour to get home again.

So what was supposed to be a quick run across the hill and back and should have taken just over an hour ended up being at trek round the countryside and sucked up my whole morning.

But... I didn't get lost. Not even once!