Gah. It’s been one of those days. One of those days where it rains non-freaking-stop, and you really don’t want to go out, but you have to renew your road tax, and you’ve been putting it off for days but now you’re going to get arrested if you don’t do it, like right now, so you hunt down your umbrella and you roll up your jeans and you trudge over to the Ghetto Post Office, only to find that, whoops, the GPO is actually just a pretend post office and they don’t issue tax discs, so you put in your contact lenses and you drive to the main post office, but when you get there you realise that you left the five dozen bits of paper you need to claim said tax disc at home, so you turn round and drive back, and then you drive to the post office again, and then you wait for twenty minutes in a queue behind a mad woman, and then you buy wine and go home, the end.

Also: you write really, really long run-on sentences because GOD, today sucks. Doesn’t today just suck?

I blame the DVLA. They brought in this fancy-pants new system whereby you can now renew your tax disc online, see. Now, this made me happy. Very, very happy. I hate Post Offices. Hate them with the hatred of fiery hate. I hate them because a) they’re always filled with old people (WHY?) b) there’s always at least a twenty-minute queue, and c)they’re always filled with old people.

The one exception to this is the Not-The-Ghetto-Post-Office (located next to the Ghetto Superstore in the, er, ghetto across the way), which is always as quiet as the crypt, possibly because of its "Not Actually a Post Office, Just Pretending" status, which I discovered to my chagrin today. The post office I eventually ended up in wasn’t actually filled with old people either, for a change, but it was filled with a mad woman, who seemed to know every.single.person. in the room (except me, natch), and spent the entire ten minutes it took her to do her thing telling them all, in a very loud voice, about her job washing the bodies of dead people. I swear I’m not making this up.

Anyway, I couldn’t use the online payments thing for reasons too boring to go into here, hence my trip to the post office(s), so that was how I spent my day. You wish you were me, you really do. In other news, I think I might hate my new glasses. I don’t actually pick them up until tomorrow, but every time I think about them now I think "granny glasses". Thanks, Terry. I’m preparing for the miracle of sight by planning a huge, top-to-bottom house cleaning, which will take place tonight, just before Big Brother. Weirdly, I’m actually quite looking forward to it. Cleaning is therapeutic. I am teh mad.

Hey look, I managed to write a whole entire entry about the post office and renewing my tax disc! This is interesting to you, Internet, don’t even try to tell me it’s not.

  1. LOL…yeah, days like that suck majorly. Glad you got it all sorted out in the end.

    Have to say I wholeheartedly agree re: your observation about post offices.Where *do* all the old people come from? Maybe rent-a-geriatric perhaps? *ponders this thought for a good minute longer than necessary*.

    Aw no, your new glasses (from what I can tell) don’t look like granny glasses at all, they look shiney and fab!

    Jen x

  2. I KNOW! What’s the big fascination with the post office? I mean, OK, the pub I can kind of understand, but the post office?

    I hope you’re right about the glasses – they’re not going back now, though, so if I look like a granny I’m just going to learn to live with it…

    Stephen – what is this “football” you speak off? Is there a football competition on or something?

  3. Stephen- Yeah.Football? Sorry don’t have a clue what you’re on about *puzzled*. 😉

    Amber- re: the post office. Hmmm, a good question. Mayyybe they’ve posted far too many letters in their lifetimes and are now all addicted to whatever the glue is on the back of envleopes? Maybe they’re all qeueing to get their “fix”?

    God.I really need to get out more don’t I? I know, I should go to a post office, obviously the hip happening place to be seen these days 😉

    And really those glasses are not grannyish in the slightest.Think about it: *what* granny do you know who has a penchant for playboy related merchandise? :)Actually the very thought of a granny wearing *anything* with that bunny logo on is enough to put me off my dinner.For the next decade.

    So there we go.Conlusive argument as to why you’re glasses will in fact be gorgeous and wonderful.I thank you.

    Jen x

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