I don't phone for the sheer hell of it you know, I do actually expect some help or at least some pointers as to what I can do to fix it but no, I get told that if it isn't the drivers it might be a virus. No it is not a virus it is your crappy modem.
Or the filter? Nope, not that either.
Maybe the phone line? No.
Phone socket? No.
Do I have the USB cable plugged into the USB port? Oooooh it could be that you know nice Mr Technical man, it's such a similar shape to all the other ports that when it didn't fit in the one I decided looked the prettiest I took a hammer to it & made it fit. Silly, silly me.
Of course it's in the right fecking port you muppet!
After all that I was told they would have to carry out some tests to locate the problem & that somebody would call me back the next day. The problem is still there & they didn't call back, I had to call them & get all stroppy again. After they tried to fob me off again by attempting to go through the whole rigmarole for a second time I told nice Mr Technical help man#2 that it was definitely the modem. Apparently somebody is going to call me back tomorrow & if it does turn out to be the modem they will get a replacement one sent out to me. Guys, let me know when the flying pigs appear.
In other far more exciting news my application was sent off last week. Yes I crossed my fingers & yes, I double double checked it was my application that I had signed & not my brothers.
Luckily for him our postie doesn't deliver until around 11/12ish which means I'm rarely in when it arrives, in turn meaning he isn't in for morning pestering & pleas to double check that he hasn't missed any post out.
I'm also jobless now. Not through any fault of my own but because it was only ever temporary anyway. The drawback to this is I have now been assigned school picking up duty which isn't that bad in itself (especially now half term is here) but it does mean my heels are on before I leave the house because as much as I would quite happily fling on my Ugg copies & be done with it I refuse to walk home a ten year old that just happens to be my height & still growing. There is not one ounce of comedy in the fact that she can look me in the eye & argue the toss with me in the shop about what brightly coloured, wall bouncing inducing sweets she is & is not allowed. One day I'll let her have the blue ones just for the amusement value. A day where my evening will be spent at Mr S's house so I only have one or two hours of bouncing, giggling, hyperactively insane ten year old to put up with. Joy!
Managed to kind of talk to Mr S about his recent stand offish ness & I find that although he's happy for me to be going after the career I want he doesn't like the thought of what I may have to do or the people I may have to put up with, & the fact that I might lose interest in him & us.
First & second bits don't worry me because I am tougher than I look & can handle things, either by doing what needs to be done & moving on or letting idiots say what they need & letting it wash over me, or thinking of numerous inventive ways of how I'd shut them up in my imagination. The third bit, to me, is unnecessary worrying & thinking too far into the future. I am a here & now kind of person & I let the future look after itself for the moment whereas as he likes to think ahead & wonder about things. I didn't say things wouldn't be different or difficult at times but I am a tryer & I have a stubborn determination that doesn't let me give in easily at all so he won't be seeing the back of me anytime soon!
As we are on the subject of back & behinds then if by any chance the man who was stood outside of Cavendish House in Cheltenham town centre last week is reading then let me say this, leering "nice arse love" as I walk past you really isn't the way to knock a girl off her feet with the romance of it all. The only thing it will get you is a filthy look of disgust & contempt. Builders can get away with it because it is a built in response for them but not random blokes who leer at passing girls. Especially not when you look like a badly dressed trogolodyte. Harsh but true.
& as immature as it is, playing rude scrabble can be so much fun. The childish giggles at the numerous rude words me, Mr S & my brother managed to come up with was shocking, as was my score, I never knew such filthy language lurked in the murky depths of my mind! Lol