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It’s been one of those weeks.
On Tuesday, I was sandwiched between a step ladder and a wall holding an, up high, paint brush while emulsion dribbled down my face.
On Wednesday, I drove to B&Q in Dundee (30 mile round trip), spent 10 minutes trying to find a basket, went demented trying to find my shopping and arrived at the checkout feeling a bit on the psychotic side. Half through ringing my items through, the fire alarm went. “You’ll have to leave your items just now,” she’d said , “until the fire alarm is over.” Faced with an indeterminate wait until the fire alarm was over, I’d driven home, ‘shoppingless’. If I’d had a cat, when I got home, I would’ve kicked it… twice.
On Friday, back to painting in the lobby – big tub of paint behind the door, more paint on my clothes than on the wall, my leg cramping, me swearing. Then it happened. Clunk – the letter box opened, plop - the letter dropped...
First ever magnolia coloured bill I’ve ever got from BT.
It was one of those weeks.
John
