My Life on a Plate

Wasted

As part of my serious diet effort I cut down my intake of dry white quite significantly last night. This morning however, for some unknown reason, I felt like I'd been out binging all night and just wanted to crawl back under the duvet. Couldn't though, as John the reflexologist was due.

After he'd gone I had a little time to fill. Emptied the washer and pegged it out. Sent an e-mail to Writer's Digest promoting Writing.Com for their 101 best sites list. It was immediately returned by the cyber postmaster as a failed delivery. Put it back on the 'to do' list. Decided to phone the bank to close an account I never use.

'Hello, if you wish to make an enquiry regarding your balance, say yes now or press 1.' Sigh. Long Pause.

'If you are reporting a lost or stolen card, say yes now or press 2.' Louder sigh. Longer pause.

'For all other enquiries press 3.' Do as instructed. Even longer pause.

'Hello, before we can process your enquiry, we need to verify a few things. After the tone, please key in your 16 digit bank card number.' Grumble. Bang x 16. Pause.

'After the next tone, please key in the full expiry date of your card. Louder grumble. Bang x 6 Longer pause.

'After the next tone please key in the full day, month and year of your birth.' Curse under breath. Bang x 8. Stamp foot.

'We are sorry but we do not recognise these details. After the tone, please key in your 16 digit card number.' Swear loudly. Stamp both feet.

After three attempts, a lot of cursing and a sore finger, I am finally informed I will be transferred to an assistant. I get quite excited at the prospect of speaking to a real person.

'We are sorry but all our assistants are busy at the moment, please hold the line.' The next time I hear a distorted rendition of 'Greensleeves' I swear I'll hit someone.

Finally, after asking my name, account number, address, telephone number, mother's maiden name, shoe size, vital statistics, colour of knickers, what I had for breakfast and the meaning of life I get to close the account and cut up the card. Quite venomously actually, I half expected it to start bleeding.

Then an unplanned trip to the dentist to see about the offending tooth. Can't get in until early on Thursday, so that's another duvet day up the spout. On the way back it starts to rain; washing now back in basket waiting to be pegged out tomorrow. So, now it's time to cook that appetising bland fish dinner then later spend an evening with Mr Golf and Mrs Death. Some days are a complete waste of time and make up.

But you won't hear me complaining of course. You all know me better than that by now. lol