Polish Gal in London
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“No, No, It Could Never Happen To Me.”

I could never forget. This is not an option. At least this is what I kept saying to myself all the way to school.  I’m a very well organised young lady in her mid-30-ties with a child and a hubby, or rather ex-hubby to be precise.

Today is Friday, and I managed to forget that my son was supposed to go on a school trip. I usually put everything as important as school trips down on my kitchen calendar.

His school trips are important to me at least as much as they are important to him.

When the little one is gone for the whole day, I can finally catch up on gossip magazines & E-news combined with furious writing. Ok, a little bit of writing and not that furious.

So to cut a long story short we arrived about 45 minutes too late. Don’t ask me how that happened!

No, I didn’t meet George Clooney, and he didn’t madly fall in love with me as he did with Michelle Pfeiffer in “One Fine Day”. Why life cannot imitate movies and why on earth George Clooney doesn’t have children?

Well, there goes my morning with E!

My son didn’t say anything. He just looked at me and started walking towards our favourite coffee shop.

We live in south-east London, and by now we have pretty much organised our lives around that area. By organising our lives I mean we know all the excellent coffee shops, restaurants, and markets.

I work as a writer for film & TV and I’m always between London & LA. I write all sorts of things. The scary thing is that I can write anything. By anything I mean the horrible stuff and the good stuff. The horrendous stuff pays well. The good stuff helps me get awful jobs. Do I feel guilty? No, not anymore. Besides, writing the horrible stuff always makes me a better writer of the excellent stuff. At least this is what I keep saying to myself, and you know what? The little white lie works every time.

I think my travelling was the major factor in my divorce. My hubby, or rather my ex-hubby just couldn’t keep away from other women. I understand, he felt lonely and scared on his own in such a big city like London. This is only understandable.

Oh, well… fuck him, right? I did for a while. Life is too short and full of younger blokes and meaningless one-night stands which I didn’t have since my early twenties, and it only happened once, ok, ok, thrice.

Today I’m only slightly older and, hopefully, somewhat wiser. But with wisdom, you never know. It can disappear as quickly as it appears.

So, the little man & I are making our way towards the coffee shop. Since it’s already after 9 am the place is packed. The little O. (This is my son’s name.) notices his dad (The big O.). I should have known that he was going to be there. Yes, my ex-spends most of his time in coffee shops, bars and restaurants.

No, he is not an alcoholic, he is not unemployed. He is actually at work. Believe me or not but he runs very successful eating & drinking out the blog. Just to be clear, I helped him out to set up the blog, came up with the name & told him what to write about. Oh, and gave him a few tips on how to write an entertaining blog. Do I get any credit for that!!! No, of course not!

Well, we are still friends and sometimes do stuff that normal friends don’t do. Like last night.

– “Daddy. Mom was late again.” says little O. while sitting down next to his daddy.

– “Coffee please,” I ask a waiter when he comes over.

My ex. starts laughing while the little one is finishing his toast.

–   “Do you want to hang out with me instead?” he asks the little O.

–   “What about mom?”

–   “Well, she can hang out with us if she wants to.”

–   “No, I’ve got plans.” (of course, I do. I can still catch up with E!)

The Little O. gives me the puppy look, and I know that my E! morning is as far away as my trip to Mars.

 

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