It’s been a hard day’s night

Today, I drove to work. This was because I had two overlapping appointments involving two important events. One: Dinner with Cheryl, whom I haven’t seen for most of this year, and who was also celebrating her birthday in advance. Two: Attend the last day of Cordon Bleu cooking class in place of my mother, who had to leave for Sydney this evening and couldn’t get a later flight.
However, a silly car was parked in front of my house gate, and I was stranded on the slope of my driveway (at the time though, silly was not a word I used in my Anglo-Saxon vocabulary). I sounded my horn, but nobody in the queue going into the China Embassy, responded. I was highly irate, and called the traffic police. My mother’s car was now behind mine, on the slope, and she was even more furious. She took photos and exchanged words with various construction workers and concerned passers-by, who were trying to alleviate the situation.
About 15-20 minutes later, the offender returned, carrying his breakfast along with him and smiling apologetically. I glared at him but was about to let him off – until I saw my mother in my rear view mirror, racing up the slope with a look of unbridled determination on her face.
As the inconsiderate driver had just climbed back into his car, his doors were still unlocked. My mother opened the door to the front passenger seat and stuck her head in, scolding him at the top of her voice – for parking his car in front of our gate and making us late for work. For having done this to us more than once. For having the cheek to buy breakfast after getting his visa, knowing that he had parked his car illegally. Mother, 1. Idiot, nil.
Anyway, after work I did manage to find the Japanese restaurant Cheryl was telling me about – after bumping into my mum’s good friend as she was leaving her office! She told me I was in the wrong part of the building and led me to the correct escalator. After dinner, I rushed over to Fort Canning Hill and asked the security guard where At-Sunrice, the cooking school, was. He didn’t understand what I was talking about, but fortunately, Jiamin’s friend, Phin, who works at Theatreworks, was there and recognised me. He kindly showed me the way (with a flourish) and I made it to class, just in time to skin a fish. Karen and i made fish papillote and a lobster bisque-like sauce, and it actually tasted good.
Dubious bonus: back at the Fort Canning car park, Karen spotted a couple making out! In broad lamp light, in a car with the engine turned on (among other things, of course). I think the position was missionary; it was too dark and rude to stare.
What a day, what a day…