Impracticalities and Irritations
Written at 1:37 p.m. on 2006-05-18
Impracticalities and Irritations
Do you ever get the feeling that what you are doing is a bit like wading through treacle, hard work, frustrating and ultimately it isn�t getting you anywhere?
Planning a wedding with my other half is a bit like that at times. An unfortunate trait he inherited from his mum, St Dianne the Terminally Martyred, is a tendency to overdramatise, leading to a lot of histrionics and dramatic statements without many results. Take today for example: Yesterday while filling in forms for the honeymoon I discovered that his passport was due to run out 11 days before we sailed. So I told him and he said he�d sort it out. This morning I get a highly agitated phone call rambling about how he�s sorted the passport by going to the post office and he had to do 2 sets of photos because the first didn�t work and it cost �61 and it just completely knocked him sideways and ���� (I was multitasking so I stopped listening at that point and just let him run on with himself). Yes, I realise that having to renew the passport is pain in the arse but it does not require the level of dramatic flair usually attributed to having both legs amputated. He thinks going to the post office was a drag? Last time I got mine renewed I was told the Passport Office would take 3 months unless I went in person so I had to haul my ass to Liverpool and sit in a queue for 7 hours. And I still didn�t have a pissy fit. The other major pain about this is that he now considers he has devoted some time today to a wedding related task and therefore doesn�t have to anything else but we have a meeting with the minister this evening to finalise our order of service and he still hasn�t sorted out the reading he wants and who he wants to do it, something I have been asking him to do since the last meeting 6 weeks ago. I�m beginning to get a bit pissed off with having to ask him 56 times to do anything and then him only doing it when I lose my temper and shout. You�ll probably be able to hear the row that�s coming over him sorting his seating plan from the United States. Not that we know who�s coming from his side as the only person who has bothered to reply is his dad and even he forgot to put in the thank you card whether he�d be attending.
Today�s other little impracticality is my brother�s wedding. My brother and his fianc�e are both what can be most charitably described as �frugal�. They have announced they are not laying on a coach to take people from the hotel to the church and back again for the following reasons:
1) Although the car park for the hotel isn�t large people can park at the station next to the reception venue
2) It is only a half hour walk from the hotel to the church and then another half hour back.
3) They can just drive to and from.
Park at the station? You can tell he doesn�t bloody drive. When was the last time anyone went to British city centre station and found 40 free parking spaces. That is not even taking into account the fact that for a full day you have to pay about �15 or risk some smug, grinning goon who was underqualified for a job stacking shelves in a warehouse to whack a wheelclamp on your car. Or for some chav to decide that they�d like to find out what the piece of paper on the floor of your vehicle is and that the best way in is through the passenger window. And a half hour walk? Well it might well be if you know where you�re going and you are in flat shoes but the number of guest who fit into that category are going to be countable on the fingers of one hand. So mum has put me in charge of changing his mind.
I really need to learn to say no.
