Happy as a Belgian panda
I very much enjoyed Alexa's Ministry of Grievances post yesterday and wish to emulate. I have very little, substantively, to complain about at the moment, but I do not see why that should stop me. I'm pretty sure unjustified moaning about minor inconveniences is good for the soul, or something.
My grievances (mainly self-inflicted):
1. Uniqlo fuckery
I ordered this cheap and delightful sweatshirt from Uniqlo recently, as recommended by Alison, who is my oracle in all things 'how the fuck should I dress'. After considerable delivery toing and froing and frustration, I finally took possession of my cheap and delightful sweatshirt yesterday (£10,90! A small percentage cashmere!), wore it, loved it, realised I was too warm in it, took it off, then apparently dropped it in the street. Noooooooooooo. NOOOOOOO. I tried to get another one (financial responsibility remains an alien concept in this household), but was stymied by the death of my online banking access thingy, see 3 below. And now the medium has sold out, FML.
2. Is it a cold or is it hayfever?
It's both, you're welcome.
3. Obstructive financial services harpies
Oh, I have to order a replacement for my broken online banking access thingy via the online banking thingy? But hang on, it's broken so how can I ACCESS online banking? You don't really care about that? I see, thanks. I've enjoyed our chat.
4. Credit card statements
HOW MUCH ON CUBES? My child does pay me back regularly for his Paypal-stravaganzas in cash, but as we all know, any amount of cash other than coppers vanishes via some strange alchemy like evaporating dew. Coppers, of course, hang around forever, annoying the hell out of everyone.
5. Exam season...
I know more about the fucking pulmonary circulation now than when I did biology myself. The correct use of niet and geen remain utterly mysterious, however. And Latin revision starts tonight, tristitia, I never got past Caecilius being in the fucking horta, so this will be ugly.
6. .. closely followed by 'that's your lot for education this year, kthxbai'
Once more, the eldest will be released into the community (= his fetid bedroom) as of this coming Monday, first to "revise" (bitter laughter), then for a whole week when the teachers have "conseil des classes" (which in my mind looks something like a Belgian version of spring break, with bikinis, barbecues and beer) even though the school year nominally ends on 26th June. The calendar I was relying on is a tissue of lies.
7. Chelonian woes
One of our surviving tortoises has been injured by something - a crow? The hedgehog? - and I am worried for it and concerned we will have to go back to the tortoise vet in Leuven at great expense and also have to tell the vet its name is Tortank.
8. Summer grooming ennui
I need to deal with my feet. Ugh. Also, I bought some body oil recommended by Margot Leadbetter in the comments recently but whenever it comes to putting it on, I am filled with weary futility. It's so sad I no longer believe in cellulite/firming treatments; it's a painful loss of innocence.
9. Teenager policing...
.. is hard work, no one with teenagers, or indeed anyone who has been a teenager, will be in the least bit surprised to hear. I actually mainly love teenagers, who are funny and sharp, but christ, the responsibility, it's as bad as those awful first few weeks when you realise that your newborn depends on you for survival. Mine is pretty great in all sorts of ways, but he is still a teenager and I feel lost and confused and haunted by too much reading of Times Online articles about the awful things teenagers are watching/doing/taking.
10. Emails from travel PRs
The arrival of a new email in my inbox gives me a little shiver of adrenalin that is not entirely pleasant, because well, I am weird and anxiety-ridden. Sadly I get this shiver 870 times a day currently and they are all capital letter-studded nonsense missives such as "Hire Your Own Private Island At Conrad Maldives Rangali Island", "Swing Away With Hastings Hotels Northern Irish Golfing Breaks" and worst of all, "Park Hyatt Pays Tribute to Families With Sons + Father's Book Inspired By U2's Bono". These are all real examples from the last hour.
Lay your grievances on the comments box in their droves. No complaint is too petty (as I believe is amply demonstrated by the above).