It’s been ages since my last blog hasn’t it? Don’t worry, I’m not losing motivation – far from it in fact – I bloody love all you people who take the time to come and read my peculiar winding tales.
I’ve just been busy recently (yes, pathetic excuse) and work has been a tough taskmaster for the past couple of weeks. On top of that my washing machine had been buggered for almost a month which has caused me no end of grief too! I worked from home on Thursday as I had to wait in (again) whilst a man spent two hours replacing every part of the sodding thing bar the outer shell and the door. It was the fourth time they’d visited to try and sort the bloody thing out. I think replacing every single part for new was a peculiar rouse to replace the machine for a whole new one without having to admit they’d given in to my request for it to be written-off and replaced. When I went to check his work I slipped and almost bloody killed myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful the chap was thorough and put extra silicon on all the internal seals, but as a result I’ve somehow acquired a teflon-like anti-grip finish to the laminate flooring in the kitchen. I didn’t picture my demise being at the hands of a washing machine; but at least I could have died knowing that I screwed every last damn penny out of that extended warranty.
Throughout my adult life I’ve had endless bad luck with domestic appliances, I hate the things – they seem to know how to deliberately wind me up; yes, there’s a definite premeditated vengeance at play! Now with audio-visual kit and computers I maintain a close and loving relationship. Sexy appliances have rarely let me down. But white-goods sit in the darkened kitchen waiting to mock me as they deliberately die at the most inconvenient of times.
Anyhow – all that said it’s a Friday night, I’m on the train home, and I’ve bought a couple of bottles of Desparados and a bag of fresh limes. Screw you washing machine, screw you!