Back to what I do best: the low mumble of complaint into the ether.
This is a blog post not an episode of consumer snore-fest 'You and Yours' so I will keep this brief. The Belgian postal service is utter, utter shite. The end.
Boots should be one of the simple, reliable pleasures of life, no? Toasty warm sturdy foot containers, with a touch of style? Yes, well, this year they were a tedious nightmare. I waited 6 weeks for a Topshop pair (choice of model copied from M, yes, I am the friend that copies your boots, albeit in a different colour, I am that kind of scum) to be delivered (see also (1) BPost and (4) online shopping). They were perfect but disintegrated in 4 months and have proved impossible to replace (M and I have spent hours of aimless gchat comparing cheap boots online to absolutely no avail). Walked around with a large stone wedged in broken heel of Topshop pair whilst I ordered another (probably crap) pair that got lost in the post. Got another pair for birthday. Zip broke within a month. Ordered yet another pair: turn out me a disturbingly pale beige colour, make me look like Billy Ray Cyrus and smell alarmingly of rubber. Wearing them anyway because I no longer care. Footwear has broken me. Maybe I can style out the beige suede cowboy boots somehow! (I can't).
I fell dramatically out of love with the Roomba this year, like the fickle, shallow bastard I am. I know he's only doing his best, bustling around disposing of household mank, but I am heartily sick of him circling menacingly around my chair as I try and work, bashing into the legs and whirring with an insistent note of martyrdom. Other things I am sick of: retrieving my phone charger cable from his intestines. Untangling him from the rug tassels. Chasing him around the corridor as he chews up a shoelace, simultaneously banging himself in the face with the attached shoe. Roomba is an idiot. I am sticking to dust in 2014.
4. Online shopping
Too small grass flipflops, lost boots, meteorite necklace Christmas present that broke on the 27th, missing plush stomach ache and sonic screwdriver, replacement promised "by urgent courier"on 24th and sent by normal post on 27th. Worst than all of these, that ghastly phenomenon, whereby you look at something in all innocence - some vile Whistles leather dungarees, perhaps, via a link sent to you AS A JOKE - and the garment then stalks you round the Internet, appearing like a hideous apparition in the corner of any piece of research or therapeutic baby animal staring you may be engaged in. Last year online shopping lost its lustre for me. In 2014 I am saying goodbye to being stalked around the Internet by Marks & Spencer control tights: I am going back to actual shops. Or better still, I am going nowhere and buying nothing, because:
5. The economy
Papa Waffle is right, writing articles for €50 is a mug's game. Sadly, it is the only game I seem to be half competent at.
6. Eye cream
I love all manner of cosmetic snake oils, but holy shit, this stuff is pointless. I have been doing a comparative test of a very dear and a very cheap one for about two months. THEY ARE BOTH AWFUL. Actually, your eyes are like mine, they are an actual health hazard. I'd rather have sagging, grey-purpleish eyelids than these spotty, bright red, puffy, itchy ones, thanks. Say no to eye cream.
If I started to list the dickish things I have done and not done due to a total failure of confidence this year, you would be first pitying, then disdainful, and you would be right. Why can't you just buy confidence (in a real shop, not online, obviously)? Latterly as I tried to rewrite my book proposal over the last couple of weeks I had to keep saying to myself 'shitter books than this have been published in the history of the written word' over and over again to stop myself just burning it all. This is as close to a positive affirmation as I get. I sent the fucking thing off today. Whoop!
8. Verruca treatments
The glamour. These are all shit, including the dermatologist administered ones, and we tried the gaffer tape thing and the gaffer tape just fell off. We start this year with the same quotient of medieval peasant skin diseases as last year, just many euros poorer. Marvellous. Maybe I'll apply a toad to the affected area. Then bury myself in the woods at midnight.
What inanimate object/good or service or abstract concept fell over and broke, annoyed the hell out of you or otherwise cruelly let you down this year?