Multi-vent Monday

Grrrrrr, boo, hiss and detest, I'm having a rant-worthy Monday, so I'm just gonna get it all out...

Centrelink -I hate you. I jump through your hoops, I even do so willingly, in grateful appreciation for the financial support you provide me with. But get this - this time I don't actually fit into one of your Neat Little Boxes. I would if I could, honest! I'd LUUURRVVE to fit into your Neat Little Box - but I. Just. Don't. I'm not going out of my way to make your life hell, I promise. I'm just in a little bit of a different situation, so would really appreciate a response other than "I'm sorry, I can only tell you what the law says" 20 times in a row. Yes, I realise this may involve consulting with a more senior staff member with the acute eyesight required to look outside the Neat Little Box, and yes, I am more than happy to make yet another appointment with said senior staff member. Today's appointment may as well have been me sitting opposite a photocopied stack of paper spelling out The Law, for all the good it did. Gah - you suck.

Dear Scalp - you're taking the pain factor of a sprained hair follicle to ridiculous heights, and I think it's time you stopped being such a drama queen and let me get on with some work without having to wince in pain every time I move my head. Yes - I did actually use the words "sprained hair follicle" - that well-known pony-tail fail injury.

Vapid-looking P-platers in hotted up Lancers - No words for you - just a visual today.



Dude fixing up my pergola - I know it's not your fault, so this is really aimed at your boss. The hailstorm that smacked Perth soundly across the face was in March. It is now September. I have lived all winter with a pergola roof that resembles thin slices of Swiss cheese. I realise there was probably a lot of call for household repairs after the storm, but seriously, dudes - 6 months? Repeated phone calls to repair company have resulted in one excuse after another - administrative cock-up, bit busy, sprained hair follicle - you get the picture. So then today, when someone actually shows up to do the job, I am SINGULARLY UNIMPRESSED with the fact that someone didn't order enough roof sheeting. You've had 6 months to do this. You've sent 4 different blokes over on 4 separate occasions to measure and you still cock it up. FAIL!

To my daugher's beloved scooter - next time I go anywhere near you please do me a huge personal favour and run away quickly, zap me with an electric shock or turn invisible - anything to keep me from attempting to ride you again after an afternoon at the pub. Kthxbai. PS - please send painkillers and heatpacks.