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Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Today has been a long, frustrating day.

I woke up this morning being my normal cheerful self (I didn't kill anyone, but then no-one stood between me and coffee. Beloved knows better than to do such things in the morning. Or make noise. Or smile. Or stand in an irritating fashion). I rumble through my morning routine, stumble towards my car and....

Rmpf. (Totally the noise it made) Car didn't go. Tried again, car still didn't go. Tried again. Still not moving. After staring vaguely at the steering wheel for 5 minutes it occurs to me that blank stares are not actually going to get me into work. Nor am I in time for our much-cut public transport. So there follows a time when I have to move quickly – in the morning, the morning people! - and yell at Beloved to get me to work somehow (thankfully I didn't have ridiculously early appointments booked). Equally thankfully, Beloved doesn't start work as early as I do and knows better than to complain in the mornings when I'm looking for an excuse to kill maim burn.

Work went as generally expected until I get an email before I have to leave – yes another “hey we need someone to be on call tonight – thanks so much!” email. This doesn't really work if you don't have a car – not unless you have some ability to go anywhere in the city you may be needed (police stations mainly but not entirely especially not with our policies).

So begins the frenzied calling of email sender to make it clear, no I can't do this. Answer machine. Oh yeah, the whole “let's be unavailable so we can dump work on Sparky and he can't argue it” tactic. I leave a gazillion messages, each steadily more furious before running round the other partners who are similarly unavailable. I end up spending half the night trying to raise SOME contact from the damn powers that be. Thankfully Beloved came home so I only had to refuse one call before being able to use his car.

When I finally raise someone I actually get complained at for not telling them. Oh, I invented new curse words, I did. And then them saying “oh you used Beloved's car, that's fine then.” Beloved needed that car, he has his own late meetings, his own work – and, yes, his own life that he may not have wanted to erase to fit in with the last minute non-planning of my firm.

And, of course I had no time to actually try to arrange for my car to be fixed.

I am Vexed.