Signs That You (And By “You,” I Mean “Me,”) Should Stop Multitasking

My press badge for a film festival arrived yesterday bearing my name and the photo of a man I don’t know and have never met.

When I called the press office to ask what happened, they did some research and reported that this photo was indeed the one I had e-mailed them.

And then I remembered.

Last month, in the depths of Fig and related can’t-get-past-two-dates-with-any-one-person despair, I answered a Gumtree ad. This was the photo the guy sent. (My work computer forces me to download all attachments to my desktop.)

In the race to finish the application before I had to catch a flight, I clicked the photo of guy I’ve never met – and (not, thank you very much, based on photo) never plan to meet.

How did I explain mix-up to woman at the press office, alert readers (oh dear, channeling Dave Barry) may ask. Keep in mind I’d already told her the pic was “of some random guy.”

I told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me God, indeed.

She laughed. Everyone finds my love life funny.

Sometimes -- and right this very minute is one of those times, though I reserve the right to change my mind later -- that even includes me.