I’m never sure what is the origin of that one, but it does appear to have stuck as an idiom. I know that it is a cliche, but it will do as a description of my feelings right now.
Today was to have been the first of the new academic year for my Italian classes. I drove over to Leeds Beckett University, and because I had received no notification of the room in which the class was due to take place I asked at the student help desk. After making a call to the appropriate department the man on duty told me that I should be in the other campus, in the centre of the city. I was surprised, but had to alternative but to try to find it.
The map I was given was virtually useless, at least in the circumstances in which I was trying to drive–through the Leeds rush hour in semi-darkness. In the end, discovering that there was no safe place in which I could stop and attempt to read the map properly, I gave up and drove home.
When I reached home I checked the documentation I had received from the University, to make sure I had not missed something. It was then that I spotted the fact that two Italian language classes take place on the same evening, of very different levels. I had been directed to the near-beginners’ class, and the one I was looking for was taking place in the campus to which I had originally gone.
Ah well! Tomorrow is a climbing day, and having cleared my post-holiday backlog of correspondence today, I will have the opportunity to get back to some art. Meanwhile, I reckon that a whiskey might be in order.