What’s the point of it all?
I suspect I just exist so that other people and institutions can make use of me.
Where’s the bloody fun?
Is this a rant? That’s not like Nelly’s Garden. So what’s pissing me off?
Let me count the ways.
- Old age
- The aftermath of the Big Girl’s Blouse Flu. I’m on antibiotics now.
- Teething troubles
- People who sell me stuff on Ebay then up and die just after I’ve paid them but before they send the goods. Hah!
- Getting a letter this morning from BoxClever demanding a monthly payment of £45.90 for two washing machines purchased on behalf of my workplace in Spide City nearly 5 years ago.
So I phoned BoxClever. No getting out of it. Because the account was opened in my name I’m responsible for non-payment and as the company cancelled the Direct Debit and the washing machines no longer exist and nobody registered their death I’m responsible. That’s a carry-on is it not? The company actually sent a lorry to pick up these non-existent washing machines last week. Nobody was there, there were no keys to get in and anyway the washing machines are languishing in landfill somewhere.
So I phoned Mingerton and spoke to the Wise One. The Wise One said I should phone the Finance Department of the old company.
So I phoned the Finance Department of the old company and she said she would look into it.
Ten minutes later the Finance Department of the old company phoned me and said she’d been in touch with BoxClever and they had offered to sell me the washing machines.
Right! I know I’ve bought some crap in my time but I draw the line at buying washing machines that don’t exist. Unless the vendor is operating on Ebay in which case I might be tempted. (See aggravation #5)
All this hassle has totally spoiled my enjoyment of redding out the shades. Then to top the lot with dream topping I held up a little pottery jam pot with a lid featuring a seated jersey cow and said to Bert,
“Should we put this in the box for Laura’s car boot sale?”
And he says,
“Och no. That’s a nice wee thing.”
And he takes it from me, turns it upside down and the lid falls on to a gorgeous plate featuring a vixen and two cubs and the wee cow’s left ear breaks off. Amazingly the foxy plate was undamaged which was just as well because if he’d broken that too I might have had to kill him.