Who Wants To Help Me Rochambeau Wayne Rooney?

Oy veh. This has been one of those days when I lose hope that I'll ever be able to move up in the world, karmically-speaking. Not only did I eat two bags of Quavers that Christie bought me, when I'm supposed to have given up potato chips and chocolate (along with being antisocial, LOL ) for Lent, but I also called Wayne Rooney a cunt, twice, and said that I hoped someone sniped him with a rifle. Ouch.

The chips are forgivable - sometimes I don't even do anything for Lent, since I'm only "Catholic-ish", not really fully Christian. It's just that I hate saying I'm going to do something and then not following through, especially for a stupid reason like temptation. At my age I should be able to make a choice and stick to it, rather than doing exactly what I want exactly when I want. The swearing, not so bad, although I do kind of wish I hadn't used that word in front of my mother. But wishing death on someone...yeah, that's pretty harsh. I don't do that. And even though I know I don't really wish someone would shoot him, it's still a pretty awful thing to say.

And oh God, my boy Djourou. What a tragedy. FIVE FREAKIN' MINUTES he lay on that pitch before they felt confident enough to carry him off. You know how serious an injury has to be for someone to lie there five minutes with a game in progress? A couple minutes later the commentators said that it was a confirmed shoulder injury, and I said, Bollocks to that. I know that boy - I met him through work - and I know how tough he is physically, and he would NOT lie there, unmoving, for five minutes if it were just a mild shoulder injury. Latest news says definitely a dislocated shoulder, and probably a broken collarbone. That sounds more like it, those things are excruciating. I've dislocated my shoulder before - unfortunately when I was in the shower at the gym - and it didn't have *me* lying there paralysed for five minutes, but the collarbone would do it.

But hell, at least it wasn't a crushed or bruised spinal cord, which it could have been.

(You can probably see why I don't watch a lot of sport. Or, for that matter, read the news. I take attacks and cheating personally.)



*sigh*


So yeah, not the best of days. I went shopping this morning with Christie, because Jane Norman were supposed to have a big sale, but everything in the whole freakin' sale is a size 6 or 8. I don't even KNOW anyone who wears a size 8 as an adult, at least not a Jane Norman 8 (which is more like a 6). And I tried on the dress I wanted (not on sale), the one I was thinking of getting to wear to weddings, and it's too tight in the boobs, and waaay too short to wear to a wedding. Christie said wear it with leggings, but I don't know what type of weddings she's been going to.


Plus the asshole bank have taken money out of my account to pay my last set of overdraft charges, which has pushed me over AGAIN. I get that I have to pay them, but couldn't they at least warn me when they're taking money out, so I could make sure I have enough in there to cover it? This happens at least four or five times a year - I have plenty of money in the bank, then they take out a whole bunch of charges (which can be up to £88 a month - about $150) and those charges push me overdrawn, consequently incurring more charges.


And I found my diary, after misplacing it for a few days, and found out that I missed a meeting on Thursday with my financial consultant. I did not, however, find my keys. I don't care about the keys themselves, I have other copies and can get new ones cut, but I had a nice little blue lace agate piece on there, and more importantly, a really lovely keyring from Tiffanys that LOML gave me for my 21st. And I don't have the heart to tell him I lost it, so I'm gonna have to figure out a way to save up and replace it, and then own up later.


In addition to this, Christie has been sick to her stomach all week, and didn't think to tell me before I met her. She's insistent that it wasn't a bug, since her mom and Tony didn't get it (YET), and says it was either a reaction to new medication, or food poisoning. But I don't know if she's just being optimistic. So now I'm living in fear of catching a stomach bug.


(In case you haven't read the rest of my blog, this is not an irrational fear; the last 48-hour stomach bug that mom brought home had me bedbound for 2 months and off my food for 9 months. No immune system, or at least a barely functional one.)


I think Anne of Green Gables called this a Jonah Day. I read the first one the other day, and I'm currently on Anne of Avonlea. :)


Ugh, I have a fever. I think I need an early night, and then fingers crossed, I'll be fine tomorrow, and bug-free (and will stay that way).


And Wayne Rooney, you nasty little troglodyte, I hope everyone realises what a thug you are so even a POS like Alex Ferguson won't hire you, and Colleen divorces you and takes all your money.


Please tell me you had a better day than I did!