Bad Week - Big old bitch about life.
Written at 11:59 a.m. on 2005-10-18
DO you know when you have one of those weeks where everything goes hopelessly wrong? Well I'm having one of those.
Disasters this week include
1) The fridge freezer blew up. So we currently have no refrigeration facilities at all, meaning I have to go over to my mum and dad's every time I want to get something to cook. We can either get an engineer to fix it (the part costs 90 quid) or we can get the part free from Ariston because the crappy thing is less than 5 years old. We thought this was very reasonable until we heard their call out charge. 90 quid. Coincidence? I don't bloody think so you collection of fridge-sabotaging, money-grabbing, corrupt, cheeky, smug sods. And we can't get an engineer until a week on Monday. I gently suggested to the phone lady that that was little inconvenient. Her suggestion was to borrow a fridge until the engineer arrives. Sheer brilliance Ariston-Lady. Who in the hell is going to volunteer to give me their fridge for 2 weeks? Give me strength. And to make it worse this has set off M's drama queen streak and now every time you mention the cursed fridge he goes into a big rant about how it has spoiled his day blah blah. I don't see why, I'm paying half to fix it and I'm the one who has to fanny about going from place to place to collect ingredients in order to cook a meal. Men.
2) While I was parked outside my friend's house some unspeakable arsehole ran their key down the side of my car and broke my wing mirror. If I ever catch the scally shite who did this they will be spending the next few months having the wing mirror surgically removed from somewhere unpleasant by a team of skilled surgeons.
3) M's sister has been ditched by the Italian Stallion, meaning we are deluged with phone calls from both her and her mother. Whilst I do appreciate that being dumped is a traumatic event (having been there myself) I can't help but think that possibly she brought it on herself with the screaming, hysterical fits and the screeching for an ambulance if she so much as broke a nail. And besides which, why does she keep ringing M several times a day in order to get him to spend up to an hour telling her she is great and the Italian Stallion still loves her very much blah blah. Because he doesn't, if he did then he wouldn't have binned her would he?
4) M's mother has started the New Year campaign for this year. This involves asking M (and by default me although she would rather she could just have him) to come and stay in a cottage on an island somewhere off the north coast of Scotland with her, her drunken lecherous husband, his bro and wife, his hysterical, mad, now single sister and his mate Ross and wife (Ross doesn't bother to talk to women, they aren't important enough, his wife is ok but really not very interesting at all). She will begin by just asking and will work through various stages of emotional blackmail until (around mid december) we will arrive at the piece de resistance, the full on, tearful rant about "I gave up my youth and my best years to bring you up as a single mother and I used to be the most important thing in your life and now you refuse to even do this one tiny thing for me. You obviously don't love me at all, no, don't say you do, if you did then you would make this journey" blah blah blah. We get this nonsense every year. I tell you what she can can do, she can sod right off. I would rather spend new year nestled in satan's armpit than on some godforsaken island with these people. Although I have to say that M's brother and his wife are lovely.
Ooh, I feel so much better for a really good rant. These diary things are great for having a good rant although because I only seem to come here to rant everyone probably thinks I am the bitch of the century. Ah well.....
On the bright side I've found some piccies of where I'm having my wedding reception.
