three. trois. drei. tres.

They come in threes, so they say:

1. I stand up funny and trap a nerve…this is apparrantly called sciatica, it hurts. Ow.
2. I realise I have lost my bank card. Abandoned in the co-op. Shite. Cancelled the card, obv.
3. I then go to the pub quiz and park intelligently – pull forward through two spaces so I can pull out forward. Bottom the car and a bit of plastic falls off the bottom of car.

Three resolutions:

1. I have pulled a muscle in my arse, you can but laugh.
2. I got the card back and chopped it up. No-one defrauded me of the whole 50p I own. I’m now bankcardless for a few days, no point in mugging me. I’ve just got my £2 for a bacon butty on Friday :D
3. The recovery people came out at midnight and got the bit of car off, it’s now drivable but it’s missing a bit that can be sorted next week…and not by me.

What a great day, why can’t they all be so darned cheery…not.

Just ring someone!

I have a new strategy. I’m not prepared to pay to ring 08 numbers, unless you’re it’s a freefone number, so hit up say no to 0870 then picking a number at random for a company and ringing them. Surprisingly I’ve found out some stuff about getting cheaper electricity and gas :)