You know when you have one of those weeks that is just a complete and utter bloody shambles from start to finish? Well I'm having one now. Here are some of the things that have gone tits skyward this week:
1) The washing machine: a little while ago we started noticing that wet patches were appearing on the edge of the dining room carpet. After eliminating the dog from our enquiries (in a charming process that involved sniffing the offending wet patch to check whether it smelled of dog piss) we decided that the likely culprit was the washing machine. After ignoring the problem for a week or so we lifted the soggy edged carpet in order to replace it (didn't think potential house buyers would be attracted by wet carpet and the smell of damp fabric) but didn't bother lifting the lino in the kitchen. Yesterday the other half decided to take up the kitchen flooring just to check what condition the floor was in underneath it. It would be fair to say that the problem was slightly more extensive than we expected, in the same way that the Titanic was slightly more extensive than an inflatable dinghy. When I removed all the cleaning products and miscellaneous crap that lives under the sink so that we could investigate the pipe connections a further delight awaited me – a family of largish slugs has taken up residence in the cupbaord. Beautiful. My house has been on the market for all of 5 days and now it has an infestation and a bare concrete floor attractively adorned with puddles of standing water and the smell of ancient lino. What housebuyer could ask for more?
2) Inlaws – Last weekend the other half's father and his monosyllabic wife came to stay for the weekend. His dad is a nice chap but at the end of a full week of work you can't really be arsed with visitors over the whole weekend because you get no time to wind down. This is unfortunate because last night his mother announced that she and her busband will be arriving at Casa Disaster tomorrow afternoon. Oh happy days. 2 weekends on the trot of bog all relaxation and this one will involve no sleep as well since her husband has a snore that registers on the Richter scale. Seriously, as you sit there at 4am, staring at the ceiling and marvelling at how the noise seems just as loud through the earplugs that you pinched from work, you can dimly hear the dog shifting about and wimpering because he can't sleep through it either. I can see why people turn to drugs and will this evening be studying the internet to discover exactly how many sleeping tablets you can take before you risk inducing a permanent coma.
3) The computer is fucked. It keeps losing internet connection and crashing. Which coincidentally is something it has in common with my phone that most usefully seems to have stopped receiving calls or texts. Handy eh? If I'd wanted to pay £30 a month for a piece of interestingly shaped plastic I'd have gone to a modern art gallery, not bought a shagging phone. Any minute now I'm going to launch the crappy thing put of the window and kick the computer to pieces.
I am literally one more mini-disaster away from utter meltdown so if you hear the sounds of a distant explosion then don't panic, it's just me losing my temper, nothing to worry about.
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