Candy floss brain

I might have had lead running through the veins yesterday but it was certainly candy floss packed between the ears. I am in the process of renewing my Canadian passport. The forms had been sitting in a drawer for well over a year and I decided to get my butt off the ground and sort it. My GP signed the guarantor bit and the photo and off it went by registered mail. That was two weeks ago. Yesterday, a little package arrived from the Canadian Embassy. No, it was not my new passport. They sent all the forms back saying that the distance from my forehead to my chin in the photo was not the correct measurement and, the form was now out of date. Start again. The rules for the actual face measurement were so precise that they had sent me a template. I had no choice but to go to a proper studio and pay £25 (rip off or what) for 4 precise photos. I got my lawyer friend to sign the necessary bits as guarantor at yesterday’s meeting and then he noticed another rule. The photo had to have the photographer’s official stamp showing name and address on it. Damm, back to the studio I trudged. By now, there was hardly any room left on the back of the photo for anything but they dug out an old stamp, re-inked it and yes, you guessed it – I ended up with a lot of black smudgy ink. The ink was still wet as I made my way to a cab rank so rather than put the photo in my purse, I got in the first cab and put it on the dashboard to dry. I was home 5 minutes later and dashed off to visit my friend.

All I had to go this morning was collate all the bits of documentation and post it. Except I couldn’t find the signed photo! Bloody hell, I soon realized what I had done and I hadn’t a clue as to what cab company it had been or even what make of car. I had sat in the front and chatted to the driver so I remembered he was short and young and he was driving a people carrier of some description (they all look the same to me). I drove to the cab rank I had used and went up to a people carrier in line. No, the driver didn’t fit the description at all. I must have looked really stupid asking him, “do you know a young short guy who drives something like this”. As luck would have it he said “you’ll be wanting one of the Lonegans…..yeh Daniel” and rolled off his telephone number. Indeed, it was Daniel and yes, he did have my photo so a quick drive around to another cab rank where he happened to be sitting and my world was made whole again.