It's been a craptacular week. I'm taking deep breaths, listening to Rachmaninov and looking at Henry. Blood pressure is returning to nearly normal. It would have been normal if I hadn't posted Henry with pants half undone. I have other photos, he has a better package than the JTwit at BB06.
I can't even remember how I started the week or whether it was sunny or raining. I was on the phone again, playing with my little chums at AGL who can't seem to get it straight about direct debits. They're the ones where the money comes out of my bank account not the one where I take your stupid plastic cards to pay at the post office. Are you going to get it right before September? Letter arrives yesterday and says everything is fine except it doesn't mention DD again. I'll ring next Monday when I've replenished my vocabulary.
Monday is also when I find out the doctor hasn't sent the letter to ACAS for Mummsy to be assessed (seems to be too many s's in that like stressed). Finally get him yesterday and he didn't write it because he thought she looked so well. Of course she looked well, prat, she'd been in hospital and you hadn't been looking after her for 24 hours. Using my nice voice, the one that doesn't rip throats out, I explained how long it takes for the team to come, anything from six weeks, if you write urgent, to eight weeks if you're dumb enough not to write urgent. The paper work has to be in place if she goes downhill suddenly and she can fall in a hole very quickly. He had been on holidays and forgotten to renew her script for Morphine as well. All in all, not a good afternoon for him.
Tuesday I try to transfer credits from my mobile to my sister's. I might as well apologize to everyone who works at a call centre, as much as I hate you, you probably hate dumbarses like me too. As much as Optus might say they don't use call centres in other countries, I got an operator who was channelling Peter Sellars underwater in Mumbai. Who remembers passwords for mobile money exchanges? She gave me a new one, it came on the phone when I was on the computer. The phone was in my bag, three rooms away.
I activated Phone and Internet banking, not. For two days the website wouldn't accept my request for a password, on the third day it did. I bet it was the same call centre. I can hear them now, "It's that stupid tart again, the one who can't manage passwords. Let's annoy her for a few days." Well you did a fine job and all to find out my balance was $4.35 and we won't discuss the balance of my credit card which they've obviously mistaken for the GDP of New Zealand.
Now for the techno thrill part of my week. The website that offers to do a virus scan and if it finds any, you get to pay them money to clean it up. This wasn't even what I went to the site for but the word 'free' got my attention. The words ' sixteen infected files' got me the heart attack. I managed to manually clean out most of them. I went to places in this computer I didn't know existed and probably don't after I've flat-footed through them. Sod the little hackers, why don't they get laid. So decided to run Spybot after that and guess what company had just put 16 pieces of spyware on my machine. Batsardss.
Today has been downloading a new firewall which locked me out of my home page because I forgot to give it permission to let me in. What am I, a mind reader? I am now downloading a new anti-virus programme which, on dial-up, only has another hour to go. One day, someone will find a wizened skeleton hunched over this keyboard waiting for another download. If little Yankee Sol wants to be canonized as St. Sol then give us your ill-gotten bonus so we can all have broadband, you carpetbagger.
Anything else, of course, the cat's sick. He wants to eat but can't. I've opened six cans of food and he sits there looking at it. I thought I'd shock him into sensibility by bringing the cat cage in. He's conscious again now but still not eating. I explained to him nicely that I could look in his mouth to see what was wrong. He just as nicely bit the crap out of me. It's okay, I feel like having a beer so it can't be rabies.
Did I have any luck at all this week? I got 3 numbers in Ozlotto, no prize. I walked to mother's and didn't fall over, that doesn't count because of where I was going. The taps are still leaking. The spouting's still leaking. I forgot to put the garbage out. BUT and a big BUT (no, not mine) hidden behind the icepacks (for my big butt) was a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream. There is no joy like finding a carton of triple fudge chocolate icecream that I'd forgotten was there. I should save it for Sunday but it's been a craptacular week.