Why do things always happen when you’re least able to deal with them? I’ve been feeling a bit low the last few days and have had a lot of discomfort from my hernia so I could have done without this morning. Got up and went in the shower and then headed downstairs where I found the kitchen floor slightly wet. On closer inspection I then found a puddle or undisclosed liquid next to the table. No sooner had I mopped it up than Sarah found the first spot of blood on the print out from yesterday’s Tesco delivery. In the next few minutes we found a couple more on the floor and then loads in the bathroom. They were obviously from one of the cats but which one.
There were two suspects but we eventually narrowed it down to the old croc even though we couldn’t find where it was coming from. Next up, just as we were about to leave Ben announced that with all of the hoo-hah we hadn’t given him a drink. So I quickly made one which he drank some of and then went to put the cup down and spilled the remainder all over the table. Then the car kept spluttering out as I drove off. Finally I get to work and my old boss (now a vicar) phones up and wants a meeting tomorrow…..
Never do business with a religious son-of-a-bitch. His word ain’t worth a shit — not with the Good Lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal.