9:00 am – awaken to boorish knocking and aggressive phone calling from a tradesman. He claims he’s been here since 8:30. I try to remind myself he is human.
9:10 – 10:00 am – take 20 minutes from my skincare regime to advise the *almost vomits in mouth* tradesman of the consequences of getting a single mark on my expensive carpet. After putting him in his place I fed the dog last night’s foie gras with shaved truffles. Joke with the brute that it’s barely fit for my little fur baby.
10:00 am – scrape the side of my Range Rover against the tradie’s ute. He’d only given me a 4m clearance and I’m already half a bottle of Pol Roger down. I’ll take it out of his fee later.
10:30 am – after a quick visit to my make-up and hair girl (she keeps calling herself my daughter but she is studying arts at Notre Dame so I have no daughter) I head to my health club. Not a gym like you peasants. A health club. Park across two disability bays.
11:00 am – a light workout on a treadmill on the lowest setting while we gossip about our son’s teachers. I decide to spread a salacious rumour that the P.E Teacher let Catherine blow his whistle. This won’t be the first time my hubby will have to save me from litigation.
11:30 am – after making a staff member cry over the internal temperature of the health club I spot a new diamond ring on Jennifer’s finger. 10 carats she brags. I take great offence and decide to take it out on my husband’s watch collection later.
12:30 am – multi-task adjusting my makeup, texting my girlfriend and looking for that Xan that fell down my car seat earlier. I veer in and out of the lanes on Stirling Highway causing untold mayhem in my wake. Find the xan.
1:00 pm – after giving the blue-collar caveman my husband’s Vacheron Constantin as a tip I text him to say his annual service will be pushed back another year if I am not adorned with a tennis bracelet upon his next return. Time for lunch.
1:30 pm – arrive at the Cottesloe Hotel and ignore every fancy alarm system in my car as I back right into a BMW. Laugh that a BMW 3 series is even in Cottesloe. Leave a note asking them to not be so poor next time.
1:30 pm – 3:30 pm – I drink my body weight in champagne and realise in all the madness of the BMW “incident” I’d just parked across the footpath. Run out screaming at the Ranger about my status in society and how he’ll be writing dog excreta fines in Albany if he touches my car with that violation.
3:30 pm – maybe it’s the champagne, maybe it’s the tennis bracelet I have coming but I feel like being a mother today. I text the help and say I’ll be retrieving my son from school. Alas, my car has broken down again.
4:00 pm – I need more champagne after dealing with a tow truck driver. Two blue-collar types in one day. How ghastly. I head back in for some stiff drinks. I have forgotten about the boy.
5:00 pm – the dealership has given me a replacement Range Rover which I deem to be of inferior quality. Do a real number on the wheel alignment trying to navigate the Boat Shed car park.
5:15 pm – box in the tradesman’s ute and go for a little laydown. Awaken at 5:45 to 20 missed calls and language unbecoming of the western suburbs. I tell him to shut up and move the replacement Range Rover back.
5:25 pm – I have several blow-ins angry at me for causing a 3 car pile up on a suburban street. My only question is why are there here to begin with. That’s a Ford for goodness sake.
5:30 pm – not dealing with this today. I abandon the scene and go in search of my son. He sobs that he had to walk home. I tell him he ruined my womb. So we’re even. I tell him to go and move my replacement Range from the road.
5:35 pm – the boy tells me that it has broken down too. Dreams now though, I’ve had a Stilnox and mummy needs her beauty sleep.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?
