I had hoped that after a week fraught with problems today might be different........some hope! This morning we had arranged for a grocery delivery from Ocado, to arrive between nine and ten o clock. The van pulled up out side our house at eight twenty five and in spite of the fact that the curtains were still drawn the driver proceeded to unload the shopping. While I was franticly getting dressed I observed the fellow repacking the bags, I assumed to lessen the number of journeys he would have to make. Leaving Pa in a state of disarray (quite literally) my son and I went down stairs to receive our goods. Then the problems really began. Whilst repacking the bags the hair brained twit had loaded four and a half dozen free range eggs in to one bag on top of a large pork pie and a lovely piece of Brie. Half a dozen of the eggs had fallen out of the up turned egg box and squelched their way to the bottom of the bag , smothering the paper wrapped pie and the Brie in scrambled egg. A carrier bag containing four bags of bread flour was found to also contain a bottle of Cif spray, the top of which was unscrewed and the contents were leaking in to the flour. I was cross. I phoned he depot and explained the problem and the robot on the other end of the phone offered me a refund , with the air of one conferring a great favour, and then went on to say that he would make a note on our account so that the drivers did not come early again. Excuse me , I thought that was why we had booked a time slot in the first place,I should have told him were to shove it but politeness forbade such relief. I spent half an hour wiping egg from packs of pasta and getting rid of soggy egg boxes,I was even more cross.
Breakfast was pleasant and passed with out incident until the occupational therapist who made such a Horlicks of things last week called to arrange another appointment. As she talked it became evident that she had either forgotten every thing we said to her last week, or even more likely had not been listening in the first place. Oh how I wanted to tell her where to get off, I refrained. I was by now Incandescent.
I have an odd sort of temper, I am able to bottle things up for ages and the suddenly quite a small thing will trigger an eruption which registers on the Richter scale; the poor soul on the receiving end gets weeks of pent up rage, I have been known to clear a room on a couple of occasions.
I am so close to going off like a firework on a feast day that I am thinking of going into a retreat before I blow my top. I hate being out of control, I really do.
Many years ago I knew a lovely old lady named Mary, Every one liked her, it was impossible not to. When I asked her how she was she would always say “It's not me, it's them others.” I know exactly what she meant.
We got all the Friday cleaning chores done eventually as we had several distractions, the house is tidy and we are ready for an influx of my son's friends on Saturday and Sunday. Dinner was our usual cooked meats, cheeses and home made granary bread, we almost always have this meal on the Friday of my sons week off , he loves it so it is a treat for us all as I do not have to cook on a very busy day.
What a grumpy old woman I am turning in to, but of course it's not me, it's them others!
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