I'm going mad...
I don't know what's the matter with me lately. I'm just angry for some reason. Things are getting to me. And I dont know why my sub-conscious isn't zapping things that it wouldn't usually let penetrate my usual calm exterior.
It's a brooding sort of anger that I can't shake, the kind of anger that wont suffer fools, the kind that wants to pick people up and give them a damn good shake. And I can't switch it off.
Opodo set it off. I blame them. It's their fault. Since their rude interruption into my otherwise normal (to a point) existence I've been on some sort of crusade to expunge shit service in all its incarnations, only now my mind has decided that it's expanding the family business to incorporate the role of a lone moral crusader.
The problem is that there's a downside to being a moral crusader and that is that you get labelled, or end up far deeper in something that would have passed by if you'd just counted to 5 and took deep breaths instead of getting het up about it. That's ok if you can count to 5.
I wanted to do something about the white van driver who pulled out on me this morning and then proceeded to hurl his McDonalds outer out of the window and onto the grass verge of the country lane. I saw his name on the van and the phone number and was going to ring. But then I worked out that it was probably his own business and he would have answered the phone and then what would I have got? Abuse? Which would have made me even angrier, except I could have done nothing about it this time.
I want to do something about the major food manufacturer I had an interview with in late April who told me that I'd hear within 2 to 3 weeks and who have so far, over 4 weeks later resisted all communication attempts by myself. I want to write to their Head Office and tell them what a mess it is, but I dont want to ruin any future career prospects with a employer I'd like to work for ultimately.
I want to do something about the major retailer with whom I had appointment with on a certain day at a certain time. It was an hour and a half in reception convincing myself that she must be in another meeting before realising that she wasn't actually going to turn up. She did email back to apologise and try and set another meeting up, but I've heard nothing now for 2 weeks. See above for similar reason.
I want to tell the recruitment agency guy who rang me yesterday to sort 'a point of order' out, (the point of order being that it was bad form to instruct other agencies to submit my CV for a job that he talked to me about over 6 weeks ago. Bearing in mind it was 6 weeks ago and he hasn't spoken to me since, and also that this agency has previous in letting me down by making me think it was submitting me for a job, which I'd subsequently turned down through other agencies only to find they hadn't submitted me), to piss off. I settled for putting my point across forcefully instead.
The dustbin men refused to take my rubbish yesterday morning for some reason only known to themselves, I saw them look in the bin and leave it. So, watching and ready for a ruck I shot off down the path and asked them why they weren't taking it. He muttered something about wrong type of rubbish before scuttling back to his van under a hail of expeletives from me. I want to write to someone who gives a shit about it. But who will ultimately do nothing.
A bolt on the plumbing of my Mums washing machine wasn't put on properly by the insurance company's plumbers who came out to replace my Mums other washing machine. Amongst other things, these plumbers referred to the previous plumbers as cowboys. This bolt is now loose leaving my Mums kitchen a soggy place. I want to get these exact plumbers back and beat them to death with an old copper pipe.
I want to tell the landlord of the people who rent the house next to CJ that I will personally come around and shove a large stereo system up his backside if he doesn't tell his tenants to refrain from: playing their music loud all day, slamming doors needlessly, screeching when talking would suffice and walking over CJ's garden to get to their house. But CJ tells me I have to be nice to him when he comes round to mow their lawns next.
I want to shake the estate agent selling CJ's house to within an inch of his life for a) not seeing the bleeding obvious and b) not relaying messages to the seller of the house that CJ is interested in as he doesn't think 'it will make much difference'. I want to tell him that I dont give a shit what he thinks as he's being paid by me (CJ) to do a job and to bloody well get it done pronto. Actually I did tell him that and I'm now barred from speaking to him.
I want to tell the driver of the van parked over the end of my drive that the space over my drive isn't actually a parking space and that it is actually a route used by me to manoeuvre my car to and from its place of rest on the drive. But then I think that I'm not going out for a while so he's not doing any harm. But then I think that parking over my drive is a bloody liberty and now I'm putting my shoes on as I type this.
And now I can't get a picture to upload to my blog. Oh it's worked now.
I have more. Believe me.
Please help me. I'm going to rage myself to death before long. And I don't even know what that means.
It's a brooding sort of anger that I can't shake, the kind of anger that wont suffer fools, the kind that wants to pick people up and give them a damn good shake. And I can't switch it off.
Opodo set it off. I blame them. It's their fault. Since their rude interruption into my otherwise normal (to a point) existence I've been on some sort of crusade to expunge shit service in all its incarnations, only now my mind has decided that it's expanding the family business to incorporate the role of a lone moral crusader.
The problem is that there's a downside to being a moral crusader and that is that you get labelled, or end up far deeper in something that would have passed by if you'd just counted to 5 and took deep breaths instead of getting het up about it. That's ok if you can count to 5.
I wanted to do something about the white van driver who pulled out on me this morning and then proceeded to hurl his McDonalds outer out of the window and onto the grass verge of the country lane. I saw his name on the van and the phone number and was going to ring. But then I worked out that it was probably his own business and he would have answered the phone and then what would I have got? Abuse? Which would have made me even angrier, except I could have done nothing about it this time.
I want to do something about the major food manufacturer I had an interview with in late April who told me that I'd hear within 2 to 3 weeks and who have so far, over 4 weeks later resisted all communication attempts by myself. I want to write to their Head Office and tell them what a mess it is, but I dont want to ruin any future career prospects with a employer I'd like to work for ultimately.
I want to do something about the major retailer with whom I had appointment with on a certain day at a certain time. It was an hour and a half in reception convincing myself that she must be in another meeting before realising that she wasn't actually going to turn up. She did email back to apologise and try and set another meeting up, but I've heard nothing now for 2 weeks. See above for similar reason.
I want to tell the recruitment agency guy who rang me yesterday to sort 'a point of order' out, (the point of order being that it was bad form to instruct other agencies to submit my CV for a job that he talked to me about over 6 weeks ago. Bearing in mind it was 6 weeks ago and he hasn't spoken to me since, and also that this agency has previous in letting me down by making me think it was submitting me for a job, which I'd subsequently turned down through other agencies only to find they hadn't submitted me), to piss off. I settled for putting my point across forcefully instead.
The dustbin men refused to take my rubbish yesterday morning for some reason only known to themselves, I saw them look in the bin and leave it. So, watching and ready for a ruck I shot off down the path and asked them why they weren't taking it. He muttered something about wrong type of rubbish before scuttling back to his van under a hail of expeletives from me. I want to write to someone who gives a shit about it. But who will ultimately do nothing.
A bolt on the plumbing of my Mums washing machine wasn't put on properly by the insurance company's plumbers who came out to replace my Mums other washing machine. Amongst other things, these plumbers referred to the previous plumbers as cowboys. This bolt is now loose leaving my Mums kitchen a soggy place. I want to get these exact plumbers back and beat them to death with an old copper pipe.
I want to tell the landlord of the people who rent the house next to CJ that I will personally come around and shove a large stereo system up his backside if he doesn't tell his tenants to refrain from: playing their music loud all day, slamming doors needlessly, screeching when talking would suffice and walking over CJ's garden to get to their house. But CJ tells me I have to be nice to him when he comes round to mow their lawns next.
I want to shake the estate agent selling CJ's house to within an inch of his life for a) not seeing the bleeding obvious and b) not relaying messages to the seller of the house that CJ is interested in as he doesn't think 'it will make much difference'. I want to tell him that I dont give a shit what he thinks as he's being paid by me (CJ) to do a job and to bloody well get it done pronto. Actually I did tell him that and I'm now barred from speaking to him.
I want to tell the driver of the van parked over the end of my drive that the space over my drive isn't actually a parking space and that it is actually a route used by me to manoeuvre my car to and from its place of rest on the drive. But then I think that I'm not going out for a while so he's not doing any harm. But then I think that parking over my drive is a bloody liberty and now I'm putting my shoes on as I type this.
And now I can't get a picture to upload to my blog. Oh it's worked now.
I have more. Believe me.
Please help me. I'm going to rage myself to death before long. And I don't even know what that means.
