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Dreadful Nonsense

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

Pottering around the bedroom this morning, I had a thought. The thought ran something along the lines of this: my camera no longer works - I spent good money on that camera - I should check to see if it's working again yet - where did I put the camera?

I found the camera in the pile of "Things To Be Dealt With" that has been gathering at the side of my bed since we moved into the new Flat O'Love'N'That. The Things To Be Dealt With pile includes miscellaneous picture hooks and photographs that need framing and hanging; bank statements; OU forms to fill in and send off; letters to respond to; recipes to ignore; OU feedback forms to ignore; various other important pieces of papers to file away and ignore; some pens. My camera was at the top of pile, and the instruction booklet that came with the camera was at the bottom.

On the happy off chance that it would spell out to me what to do if, by some strange chance, my camera ever went fizz, bang, pop and turned itself off, I turned to the trouble shooting page. "My camera keeps turning off", the complaint read. The offered responses included changing the batteries and checking that it was plugged in properly. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, because OF COURSE I'd done that... um... hadn't it?

No. I hadn't checked the freakish batteries.

I dashed into the adjoining room, grabbed the rechargeable batteries from the wall, dashed back into the bedroom and breathlessly rammed them into the camera. I then turned the camera over and gently pressed the on button.

Camera works. Perfectly.

I'm such an idiot.

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