Treading in furballs

Yep.  It’s that kind of day.

42 degrees and a searing wind from the west.  Being a Swan River Girl, I grew up accustomed to the westerly being a sanity saver that would drop the ground temperature by several degrees.  Roll on the Fremantle Doctor.  It might be strong but sadly it won’t reach me here, with my overcooked brain not coping with very much at all.

This morning, I was woken by the dulcet tones of the Iron Paw hurking up fur balls at 5.21am (non daylight savings time) precisely. I managed to limit the result to the tiles rather than the carpet.  But then I went back to bed, and when I awoke from one of those half in/half out of sleep eerie dreams and headed for the loo, I trod in it.

I slunk off to my local cafe in Watson to attempt to get the day off onto a better note.  This failed, primarily because the ipad decided to have smoko.  So I was unable to prepare for my lesson and had to, most uncomfortably, wing it.  So, it seem ironic that I should begin my blog with a declaration of my undying devotion to paper.  It will never need to have a Bex and a good lie down.

I rushed home from my lesson to wait for the tradie to come and measure for some work done on my house.  While feeling sorry for anyone attempting to work outside on a day like today, I still fundamentally object to being made to wait for an hour and twenty minutes past the appointed hour.  No phone call, no nothing.  Its rude and unkind and disrespectful, and the normal behaviour here.  A la the blind people, who took six weeks to answer the fairly simple question ‘When will my blinds be ready?’.  They rang on Wednesday afternoon to say that they’d be there the next morning, expecting that I would be able to drop everything to suit their own convenience.

So, just putting it out there….I am sick of shitty customer service, and that Canberra is rife with it.  

PS: Why does the Iron Paw want to snog in weather so foul???


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