Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Oops

Oh god - I think I've broken the washing machine... I'm afraid unemployment is bringing out my hitherto extremely latent domestic side. I'm not entirely sure what's going on, and I don't think I like it. Last night I spent a couple of hours in the kitchen (and I hadn't even been drinking!), washing dishes, generally cleaning the benches (I know that doesn't sound like a two hour job, and that's part of the problem). I'd finally finished scouring, and was hanging the tea towel over the oven door, when I noticed that I hadn't cleaned the oven. I actually had to stop and think that I could do this tomorrow, if I wasn't working.

I can feel Danger Mouse's pain as he reads this. He, Papa Smurf and I used to flat together, and Papa Smurf and I would hold off doing any housework whatsoever, safe in the knowledge that Danger Mouse would cave in first. It was fantastic. I can't believe how much I've changed. I must find me a drink, stat.

So, I was cleaning the washing machine prior to using it this morning. Before breakfast even. (I mean, this is seriously worrying.) It involved cleaning the manky water out of the fabric softener compartment, and generally removing grimy looking stuff. So then when I'd put my new sheets in (I have a bed now. It looks like it's designed for an oversize child, but at least it's a bed), I sorted out (with some difficulty) what programme I wanted the machine to run on, and turned the handle thing. The programme bit on the inside wouldn't budge a millimetre, let alone an inch (which would have solved the problem nicely). Gargh! I haven't even been here a day! It's stuck between P and S, which apparently stand for pump and spin; and I'm running out of socks.

I went and watched the Ireland vs. France rugby match on Sunday. (I really can't believe the uncharacteristic things I'm doing at the moment, although it was probably just an excuse to go to a pub.) It was gorgeous weather on Sunday morning, and I went off wearing sunnies with no gloves or scarf. By the time I'd made it to the pub for the 3pm kick off (see - I have the jargon and everything!) it was drizzling quietly, and bedraggled shoppers were scuttling under awnings. I found a nice quiet pub in town, propped myself up at the bar, and contemplated what to drink. There was a beer there called Bass (rhymes with lass, if you're interested), which the bartender assured me was dark, so I tried that. Moved onto Guinness for the next one; the Bass was more like ale than a dark beer, but probably okay for a session. About three mouthfuls into the Bass an older man (who'd probably been drinking since about 10am) noticed me, and came up to talk. He was very sweet, but said things like "You'd make a good rugby player", and "Having a shiny chin is a sign of fertility" (gulp - have to watch out for that!). He even tried to set me up with his friend (who, it turned out had only met him about 10 minutes before I walked in), who rode a Harley Davidson. The motorcycist apologised to me for him, and bought us both a pint. At one stage in the second half I even had to pretend to be interested in the game to stop talking (actually, it was very close, and the French are always fun to watch). By the time it came to leave (4? 5?) pints later I was talking to the bartender, who said with a grin "And you just came in for a quiet pint to watch the game", and looking in trepidation at the saturated people coming through the door. The bartender gave me a golf umbrella from the left property. I was stoked, because the last one I bought (never buy umbrellas from the Post Office, even if they do proclaim to be "NEW! Wind resistant design!") lasted about 20 minutes, before the handle snapped in half (and Belfast isn't even windy, well - not as we know it, Jim), and another 20 minutes before the cover bit turned irretrievably inside out.

I've just heard from one of the jobs I applied for yesterday, and it turns out that it's the same position I've already applied for, advertised through another company. Still, she has a colleague with a new and unadvertised job, who's going to call me today. Someone needs to employ me before I break the oven...

4 comments:

Doctor Lard said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Doctor Lard said...

Doctor Lard wonders how to use this feckin thing to leave comments!!!? :)

Mr. Osmosis said...

Well, all i can say is that it's damn lucky the irish players didn't look like boats.

Mr. Osmosis said...

You should have chanted "Wind resistance is futile" and waved your umbrella Dalekly at the post office people.