Arrrrgh.
Car - oil all over the road in front of the Cop Shop ( as we call them down here). Mercifully the cops took no notice. They are gentlemen at Nunawading, I should have asked them to drive us all home.
Computer - re-imaged by Yours Truly ce matin. Quelle fookin' blague. ( that's franglais for what a fucking joke).
(Never mind what loathsome things I had to do with Safe Mode and floppy discs to save some precious fragments to shore against my ruins. It's often slow things that slowly bring me unravelled.
I can't ever remember computers being that slow, but they were, people! They were, and we sat there marvelling at how clever they were! How silly were we?)
Washing machine - new! wow. Technostress is setting in. When will Typepad and I be united?
Seriously, in 20 years of driving ( four cars, too) I have never seen oil leak like that.
To add insult to injury, I got home with my eldest son to discover that the young 'uns ( 18, 16) had ordered pizza from the slowest store they possibly could - but hey, that's me suffering 21st Century Stress. Thank God for our new wine cellar in the laundry, left over from the 50th. Next to my new washing machine. Three cheers for Pollyanna, I have my crutches.
( As long as my autistic son doesn't throw out my wine when I am not looking - he is very tidy right now and got rid of two whole glasses last week).
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