blurg
It never rains, it pours.
The car, having failed it’s MOT, has thrown us into a transport induced mini-crisis. OK, crisis may be over stating it, but I’m in that kind of frame of mind. We clearly need a new car, however we cannot purchase one until:
- Our driving licenses are returned from the DVLA with the correct addresses on
- Â Hwyel comes back from Cuba so we can get shot of the old car which is still in his name
- We sort out where the money’s going to come from, which involves me having a good hard look at the state of my finances which always puts me in a ‘bear with a sore head’ kind of mood.
So we’ve borrowed Janet’s Fiat somethingorother (I suspect it translates as ‘only for small people’ or something similar) on which I’m not insured. Still, it gets us around.
Oh, and I have no idea how we’re going to shift the car we can’t drive from outside the house either.
Add to that the fact that it has become clear that my devil-may-care attitude towards the laminate flooring has come back to bite me firmly on the arse. The edging doesn’t cover a couple of the slightly more liberal interpretations of a ’10mm gap’, so a fair swathe of the floor is due to be hauled up in the morning, so I can replace the suspect plank, and then lay it all down again. That will be preceded by a walk to Spar to purchase the milk, bread and cereal we failed to buy from the supermarket this evening, so Sions can have her breakfast.
On top of these twin battles being faught, my psyche seems have weighed into the battle. On the other side. Yes, I’ve started getting the fear about September. Nothing that I know won’t be fixed by sitting down for a day and getting to grips with the boxes of stuff in the study, but I also know that I won’t get that day till the end of the week at the least.
Oh, and I’ve just found out the sofa that was being delivered by my brother in law on Wednesday evening is now being delivered tomorrow.
Did I mention that it had started raining?
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