It's Friday. My car has been sat on my drive since Sunday with a flat tyre and knackered wheel. A days worth of phone calls and THREE AA men later, the car has FINALLY gone to Peugeot (there's a whole new story to fill you in on), dropped off by AA at the AIRPORT to get a hire car...

Avis won't accept my details. I'm stuck at the airport, no money, no transport, no help.

I screamed, I shouted, I cried, (yes right there in the Airport), I called D and asked him to rescue me. Even though he was in the middle of putting Noah to bed.

He came, with a credit card, sorted me out a car, dropped me off at Avis to pick up the car.

I may never, in all my days, have driven such a shitty little car. A Citroen C3. Which I want to burn.

I'm half an hour late for my rehearsal. I haven't eaten. I left the house at 5:30. I got back to pick up my cello at 8:00. A week, surely, beyond belief.

The AA deserve to be sent to the very pits of hell for all eternity, where they will be made to clean Satan's bollocks with their BARE TONGUES.
2 Responses

  1. A Says:

    your blog is cracking me up! i cannot believe the week you've had. you have been through the ringer! you deserve a pedicure and a bubble bath for sure. i got your comment you left on my blog - i'm adding your blog to my list too! :)

    ash from FF