Trouble comes in threes, yeah? Well last month, trouble came in two – ie washing machine and fridge freezer both blowing up in the space of fortnight – thanks life! After we’d somehow managed to get new ones and we had clean clothes again, (THERE ARE NO LAUNDRETTES ANYMORE! ANYWHERE!) and didn’t have to keep bottles of milk in cold bowls of water but all the relief that came with that, I knew I was shagged.
What was the third installment of trouble to come along? Bean hurting himself? TV braking? Laptop? Phone? Stupid cat doing an impromptu skydive from a tree (think the other cats are sponsoring her) and having to pay scary vet bills AGAIN? I waited with bated breath and tiptoed around like a crazy superstitious woman, looking out black cats, ladders, keeping Bean away from umbrellas in the house so on and so forth. And nothing happened. Ha, you don’t fool me universe, I know your game, you crafty cow. You’re merely hatching something immense to proper shit us up. So what did the universe do?
She killed my toilet.
Ha. Funny. I get it. You fucking BITCH!
Three days. Three days and no toilet. Three days, three people, and no toilet.
NO UNIVERSE, NO!
I’M SORRY I DIDN’T PUT THAT CEREAL BOX IN THE RECYCLING BAG LAST WEEK, OK? I’M SORRY.
I shan’t go into details, I’m already deeply ashamed of myself, let’s just say the other half and I will never look at each other in the same way again, and there may be a patch in my garden (private, mind) where we will NEVER GO NEAR EVER AGAIN.
Living in Essex and needing a tradesman is ridonkulous, they are always in London or Kent. WTF? There are no plumbers, builders etc in London or Kent already? Or are the London and Kent plumbers all working in Surrey or Sussex and so on? No people, just stay where you are and then I won’t need to wait 3 days for someone with very precise tools to fix my bog and be forced to pee in a bucket like a hobo. What? Don’t judge me What was I supposed to do? *Rings bell next door* OH HAI, I’ve never been in your house before and likewise for you, I know we sometimes have a nice chat over the garden fence and we’re friendly enough etc – BUT I REALLY NEED A PISS, PLEASE GOD I’VE BEEN BUSTING FOR HOURS AND I THINK I’M GOING CROSS EYED FROM HAVING TO HOLD IT SO LONG HELP MEEEE?
I have some dignity.
Hence I peed in a bucket.
Add the fact that the gas company have thought this an appropriate time to dig up huge holes in the road outside my house with big fuck off drills, and then just stand around looking at said hole, and not do much else other than nose through my front windows while Bean and I are making sheds out of Lego for his animals. Plus Bean has some kamikaze compulsion to get as close as he can to the holes when we’re going out, the little weirdo.
It’s not on universe. It’s not on.
All fixed now though, my already precarious bank account has nose-dived to the depths of oblivion and it sure as hell ain’t coming back any time soon, but Christ right now I don’t give a stuff.
And obviously, last night, me and other half, oh fuck it, for the purposes of the blog I’ll call him Rob, (it’s not his real name, it’s really Robert – ha!) realized what the date was and remembered it’s our anniversary today.
And we forgot. We’re SHIT.
Because of the
shitting bastard special circumstances, we’ve decided rather sensibly to postpone it a few days this year.
What I’ve learnt over the past few days;
- If you need an emergency plumber or similar, call one in the county next to yours, it cuts out the middle man.
- Gas men are nosey bastards.
- Ice lollies / biscuits / promise of chocolate is the ONLY way to keep your feral toddler under control while dealing with the above.
- The universe is going on my naughty list.
- I need to buy a new bucket. Preferably a glittery one, or one with pictures of cats on it.
What’s your troublesome three? What’s gone wrong / broken for you recently? Or am I just cursed? Come on, make me feel better here, I just wrote on the internet I pissed in a bucket FFS.