Blinded by the light...
Yesterday afternoon and evening were mainly spent turning the air blue with ripe profanities. I should point out that I was alone, so unless the two woofers have started to understand more than 'walk', 'dinner' and 'stick', there wasn't much chance of offending anyone. More's the pity.
You'll guess that I am talking about the internet after my throw away comment yesterday afternoon. Living in the countryside, I fully appreciate that my internet speed might be slightly slower than town and city dwellers, but my internet is something else again.
Some months ago, BT got in touch telling me all about their new superfast fibre broadband which was now available in my area. I have since found out that the fibre optic part fizzles out down the road, with the last mile made up of tin foil and a rubber band as it limps into my modem. When the husband informed me of this, all I could think of was two bean cans at the end of a length of string. Come to think of it, this would work better I reckon.
Anyway, it was down twice yesterday for around two hours in total. Stamping around the office, pressing this and slapping that, I cursed the internet and the dependency I have on it working each day. If I tipped up at work each day and after an hour, sloped off for a kip in the stationery cupboard while hanging a sign round my neck saying 'Not Responding', I am sure there would be repercussions.
So the swearing was most therapeutic and when the internet drifted back into the house again (I did nothing to make this happen, unless you count numerous reboots) I was most relieved. At least I could now cobble something together for you lovely readers.
It was then off to Pilates for my weekly torture session, and it was on the journey there that my language took a turn for the worse. It's my lights you see. In these days of technology and invention, some bright spark decided that the little wheel which used to be next to your steering wheel was no longer required. This is the one which used to change the angle of your headlights, but now we all have self levelling headlights, the wheel is no longer necessary.
Well I beg to differ...
Having been flashed by at least six cars on the way there, implying that I had my full beam on (I didn't) I resorted to shouting 'P*ss off!' to every one of them, while flashing my full beam to prove that I didn't have it on. But it gets better. Apparently, I am not able to adjust my headlights at all, but have to pay the dealer to do it.
My poor Pilates teacher had her work cut out last night.
I was like a coiled spring....with a potty mouth...