Tuesday, July 22, 2003

Why don’t I lie down, so you can walk all over me more easily?

Well, today has, officially, sucked ass. Not nice ass, but sweaty, hairy, acned ass. The folks who are buying my family home (a six bedroom house where my mum lives, alone, at the moment) are trying to screw us out of a quarter of a million pounds. They’ve offered 20% below the asking price, and everyone is urging us to accept this. I feel defeated. My dad bought this house 50 years ago when he moved to England from Poland after the war, and it is our inheritance, it is to provide for mum and his five daughters. Have never met this buyer, but I hate them more than anyone I’ve ever known.

What else? Work is for shit: boss has screwed up, and I am left to pick up the pieces and try to salvage two books. I know I seem to bitch about work an awful lot, and in truth I really like both my bosses, and respect them, and we have a laugh and get on very well. But as bosses, they’re just not very good. How do people reach a senior position like this? Is it based on whom you know? Was so tired of this by 1pm, and had had a panic attack (where I hyperventilated and thought I was going to die in a toilet cubicle) over the house thing, that at lunch all I wanted was a large drink. Steve took me to the touristy but beautiful mirror pub, and I had a double whiskey. Felt a lot better. Aaaah, my good friend alcohol.

Other: lovely red couch was delivered, but lovely red couch has hole in it. Boooo! I want her life: www.absolutely-vile.com

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