I did something very stupid yesterday. In my defence, I was short of time, had just had a challenging day at work, and had a sore back, but I let myself get in a flap in the middle of Dublin while trying to park so I could get to a theatre performance on time. The fact is that I’m dreadful at following directions, particularly when they’re being barked at me over the phone while I’m driving in a foreign city (I know, it’s only Ireland, but subtle differences in language and culture can be overwhelmingly confusing). The net result was that I got lost and ended up missing the performance. My companion was not pleased, and lost no time in letting me know so. We spent a miserable evening alternately swapping recriminations and wondering what to do to make things better again. I tried to book fresh tickets but he furiously refused to countenance it and said the only way I’d get him to the theatre to see that play again would be if I rang The Gate and asked them to reallocate the tickets for tonight. I didn’t hold much hope of success, but I told them my story and after telling me the policy precluded any sort of compensation, they agreed to allow us to go.
I never thanked The Gate for their kindness, compounding the injury.
I’d promised to write a review for the play. I didn’t do that, either.
So, as with so many things in the life of a codependent, I have some reparation to make.