Be strong

It feels like ages since I last posted, although I know it was actually only Wednesday. But for me that is ages, because I've got verbal diarrhea which I express through my fingers into my computer and directly to you, and I like to do it quite regularly, because I'm a slut.

Like this.

Another reason I might not have posted could be because I wanted you all to keep reading the post about the tramp making baby gravy in the street, because I genuinely want everyone to share my pain over that incident.

Anyway, the reason I've been a bit quiet is because work's gone crazy-tits busy. I am rushed off my feet. Not to the point where I'm tearing my hair out in frustration though; no, I'm actually approaching the various tasks I need to complete with grace and style, wit and wisdom, and all that other crap stuff that people preach about on inspirational posters and the like. And by that, I mean I'm just about holding myself together with glue and string and working all the hours I can just to get things done in time for Monday, which is when my various deadlines all converge together like some huge monster deadline rampaging over my face and stamping on my brain. Crazy bitch deadlines.

So yes, I've been working during the day. I've been working in the evenings. And I'm working this weekend. And I'm trying to keep to a rigid schedule, which literally has short windows for things like 'eat lunch,' 'wrap Jo's birthday present,' 'go visit the family,' and 'watch Doctor Who.'

Part of said-rigid schedule involved 'go buy new windscreen wipers' because I'd noticed that mine were a bit knacked and the rubber bit was falling off, and lord knows the weather's been crazy enough over the last couple of weeks that a massive downpour could theoretically happen and then I'd be in trouble. So I jumped in the Sparky Mobile this morning for a jaunt over to my Mini dealer to purchase new windscreen wipers - and, while I was there, I figured I'd book a test drive of the new Mini Cooper diesel, or the 'Dooper,' as the kids are apparently calling it; I would not drive it today, I vowed - because today I have LOTS of work to do. So I allotted myself an hour in which to get there, make my purchase, book the test drive for NEXT weekend (that's NEXT weekend), and get home ready to resume work.

"I'd like to book a test drive for the Mini Cooper diesel, please," I beamed at the lovely sales rep I first drove a new Mini with back in November.

"We can do it now if you want?" She replied.

Be strong, be strong, be strong…

"OK!"

Dammit!

I won't bore you all with my test drive tales; suffice to say the Dooper is one super little car. Super-dooper, in fact. It doesn't feel all dieselly at all. Plus it gets 64 miles to the gallon, road tax is 35 quid per year rather than the £205 I pay now, and it looks like it might be made congestion-charge exempt next year because it's so super-clean. So clean in fact that you can put your mouth over the exhaust pipe and breath in fresh air with a hint of strawberrys*.

Um, I think I want one!


*Um, OK, so maybe it's not that clean. Don't put your mouths over exhaust pipes kids!