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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

The internet has spoken! Many thanks to all who helped with boots buying decision. Having now compiled the opinions of a total of eleven people, both real and imaginary, only one person didn't out right throw up at the thought of purchasing said boots, and that was He Who Only... and that's only because he's humoring me. So thanks to y'all, I won't be buying said boots, I will never be happy again and I hate you bitches with all the firey depths of hell.

You know what's a good way to wake up of a morning? By speaking to three different people in a call centre at 8.30am in another country while still tucked up in bed. Seriously. It's brilliant. The first person you speak to in the morning should always give their full name, their job description and ask how they can help you. It's a wonder how that little courtesy can lift your heart right up.

I was ringing to cancel my mobile phone contract, because like a foole I forgot to do that yesterday, which means I now get to pay Vodafone A FULL MONTH'S EXTRA RENT on a mobile that I won't be able to fucking use. I plan and plan and plan things, but then I totally fail to execute said plans. I suck at organisation.

But the ladies I spoke to this morning - in a call centre somewhere in the UK - were terribly helpful even though I was totally incoherent. Sleeping with your mobile phone right beside your head all night probably isn't very good for you, brain tumour wise, but it does mean that the very first conscious action you can take in the morning is to dial a number and the first phrase spoken can be confirming your date of birth. Unless I'm asked direct questions for three hours after waking up, I don't make much sense, so when someone asks me how they can help me, so many options spring to mind that I get confused. Hence having to call the customer care line THREE TIMES before getting all the information I needed.

Still. Phone more or less cancelled, pending confirmation from evil Vodafone HQ. And boots will remain unpurchased, you horrible unfeeling harridons.

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