Tuesday, March 29, 2011

18:04 to Waterfall

I'm blogging on the train, a train ride that has thus far remained without mishap (spoke too soon, why oh why is this an all stations?!) Yesterday I'm pretty sure I elbowed a bald man directly in his bald spot, had to be tapped three times on the shoulder because I was unknowingly in the way and said sorry no less than 7 times. That is nothing new for me though. I'm an obsessive apologist.

Did you just step on my toe? Don't worry about it! I mean I shouldn't have left my toe lying around where unsuspecting people could accidentally tread on it, so really please accept my apology.

You can also bet I was that wuss in primary school who accidentally hurt my fellow play partner (who was probably Kristy from the Babysitters Club or one of the Samurai Pizza Cats. We played some serious RPGs for 9 year olds) and would be crying far louder and for much longer than the injured party. It's not that I wanted the attention (although looking back it sure sounds like I did), it was more that I felt so terribly guilty and awful about what I'd done. And I still do, about everything.

I still feel sick to my stomach remembering the time my smart alec 16 year old self made snarky comments about a gift from a relative infront of said relative, without realising it until my parents gestures, simultaneously subtle and furious, helped me cotton on to my faux pas. No joke, my stomach turns and I feel the exact shame I did the first time. It's been 10 years and I'm turning red just thinking about it.

Or when we went to a restaurant for my Papa's birthday and in the hullabaloo of saying hello to loved ones my handbag knocked a woman's wine glass off the table, sending it hurtling to the floor. Cue entire restaurant staring and an awkward silence quickly filled with "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Oh god, it's all over your shoes. Please let me buy you another glass. I'm so incredibly sorry. I'll buy you a whole bottle. Oh god, I'm SO sorry". She politely refused and I sulked back to my table (shedding a few embarrased tears) only to interrupt her dinner again to try and force another glass of wine on her. Pretty sure all she wanted was for me to get the hell away from her.

Yeesh the shame of it all. And although saying sorry so often surely seems insincere, I can promise you I mean each and every single one (unless it's one of those sarcastic sor-eeee kind of sorrys).

I think my friends and family are pretty used to the sound of my many apologies but I also know it grates. Oh thinks that's the quickest way to track me down in a crowd - listen out for a chorus of "Sorry! Sorry! I'm so sorry!". And you know what? That just makes me want to say.... Shut up jerk. (Okay I really wanted to say Sorry. And now I feel bad for calling him a jerk. Sorry bub!).

-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

1 comment:

Lorraine @ Not Quite Nigella said...

how fabulous! I've never live blogged from a train. The way that the autocorrect works on my iPad I would be reluctant to let anything go live without a lot of checking. Loved this post! :D

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