I'M BEHIND MYSELF (a great hiding place)

Twenty minutes into today and I'm still getting over yesterday which is why I'm not in bed sound asleep.
I would have been out and away but I waited for the post since AGL have only sent the electricity bill and not the gas bill. Still waiting for SE Water as well. Once I've paid those then it's off to Centrelink with the masses of paperwork.
Down to see mother with a new mobile phone and a new portable DVD player. She didn't want a television, the player is enough and I bought the one with the 9 inch screen which plays for 5 hours without being plugged in, after it's been charged up. That should stop her from yanking the cord out and breaking the wires.
And do I care that she's going to be completely confused with all the instructions, not on yer nelly! She has plenty of young'uns used to these new-fangled contraptions and they get to help her.
After guiding her through bingo and eating her chocolate prizes, it was up to the Council chambers to put in the cat registration papers, proof of microchipping, proof of sterilization and a reminder that now I get to pay for the beast in April.
Down the lane, across the road and set up a collection date for the op-shop stuff and successfully leave the shop without buying one thing, not even a book.
Walk further down to post mother's letters. One to Aunt Selma who is threatening to come down for their combined birthdays in March. (the joy of tearing up some of her old photos is making me quite giddy)
Now right to the other end of Mentone to the solicitor's to put in the corrected papers for the new will which is written in legalese, not English and probably leaves everything to the cat.
I decided then that I would have a meal and a glass of red at the pub for tea. Halfway through the rather nice red, I remembered the cat. See, I can't even be responsible for a 16 year old moggie but I had left food, water and kitty litter and it was still light when I got home. I took her for a walk round the garden and she consented to sit on my lap for half an hour, only because the fan was blowing her way. She's now back in the sewing room, where she's made a comfortable bed on my snowy white Broderie Anglais tri-pillow.
Snowy white it was, but a domestic black and white short hair that isn't supposed to shed, has and the cover is unbelievable.
Somewhere in all this, my mother has volunteered me to make two hair combs for the Chef. I really should stop stuffing my face long enough to listen to what she's saying. I didn't miss the "Will you be here for lunch on Sunday?" though.